Do Neglect All Your Dear Creations
by DeithwenAddanYnCarnAepMorvudd
Summary: A detective in the police force of Yokohama hides her ability. For one, it creates a lot of social tensions. And two, it's quite a headache. She is willing to withstand pain as long as it serves the purpose: serve and protect. Yet, sometimes, she wishes to never know how difficult it is to walk among the crowd.
1. The makings of a great detective

There's a thin line between pleasure and agony, she figured, looking at the stock of papers needed to be filled out. The only joy she got from this is the knowledge the bugger pile is the solved cases. Nonetheless, it's a lot of paperwork, which means headache and eyestrain. And boredom. On the other hand, this kind is nothing compared to the pain created by her ability. For now, she is safe from the pain, until another crime happens.

"Blok!" the man shouted, approaching her desk. She rolled her eyes, knowing that he is never there to spill complements.

"I expect paperwork done today," he grinned looking at the overdue pile. It's not that he wasn't a likable man. He had some god about him. But it seemed like he enjoyed being an ass sometimes a bit too much.

"Aye-aye, Capitan," she responded, waving him off.

"But," he said, placing his hand on her table. That captured her attention more than his words.

"Before you do that. There's a call. Noise, disturbance, potential domestic abuse," he nonchalantly said. Cops, they get used to things like that fast. It touched her too.

"You just said you expected paperwork done!" the woman exclaimed. She didn't want another case today. Even so minor, just a bit of investigation and questioning. And that's what she hated sometimes. Questioning.

"And take the youngling," Captain added. "He better start learning now."

"I have no choice," she commented dimly.

"None at all."

She stared at the man before her. Smug asshole. She picked up the phone and pressed on a button.

"Detective Blok," she said passively, "get Junichiro Tanizaki to me. And get me the details about the recent disturbance call."

The Captain smiled at her brightly. Not a note of maliciousness in it. But she didn't appreciate it still. The reason she was picked is obvious. Potential domestic abuse, which means she would know immediately if it was the case. Her sixth sense is getting famous and obnoxious. Perhaps, she needs to start making mistakes. Or else, they would get onto her case. The boy came jumping to her. She met him exactly once before, briefly, and it's been awhile.

"I'm Junichiro Tanizaki," he said seriously. He paused though it was obvious by his tone he wasn't finished. He didn't plan to stop talking just yet.

"Detective Blok." The sentence came out strained. The woman smiled. It was better than Blok-sama she feared. It didn't sound right to her.

"Call me Saskia," she said. Junichiro looked at her thoughtfully.

"Then you can call me Junichiro."

"I'll do my best," she joked. Her hand patted the boy on the shoulder, prompting him to go with her.

"Let's go, Captain says you need to start learning."

* * *

She drove on the street of Yokohama, following the directions of the navigation system. Junichiro was driving shotgun and the conversation didn't exactly flow between them. Strangers they were and with an age gap at that.

"I heard good things about you, Saskia-san," the boy awkwardly started. Saskia guessed he wasn't comfortable with this dead silence in the car interrupted only by the robotic voice of the navigator. She was a detective he never met before. He was young and curious. She could understand that but she also knew where this was going.

"Probably understated," she replied. The car made a turn.

"Familiar neighborhood," the woman whispered to herself.

"You live somewhere nearby?"

"No, I've been here before."

"I heard about your sixth sense," Tanizaki continued. "How do you know it's always right?"

"Oh, trust me," the woman smiled woefully, "it's an unmistakable feeling."

She stopped the car in front of the house. It was definitely familiar. The sky-blue door. She remembered that is didn't suit the house at all. It should have been dark-grey or beige. Something neutral, not sky-blue. When she just started working in Yokohama, she was assigned a senior partner. She didn't go into the house that time. He told her to stay away. She thought it was a mistake at that time. Well, karma is a catty bitch.

The woman and her young partner were waiting outside the sky-blue door. They heard steps from the inside and an overly cheerful male voice. The door opened to present a middle-aged man in a grey shirt and dark pants. Saskia didn't like him immediately. Too cheery for someone who discovered someone in a uniform outside their door after dusk.

"Detective Blok," the woman introduced herself and showed her ID. "We received a noise complaint."

"I'm so sorry about this!" the man apologized. Saskia winced in pain.

"My little one is learning to ride a bike in the back yard and had an accident," he rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. "Little girls tend to cry a lot over scraped knees."

Detective Blok grimaced, "Reported shouting."

"I admit I lost my temper a bit," he said sleepily, "when the incident happened."

"Can I speak to your daughter?" Saskia asked.

"She's… in the bathtub…"

Saskia looked at her wristwatch. She sighed and rubbed her temple. The situation was giving her a headache. Literally.

"It's been a while since the accident, what is she doing in the bathtub? Definitely not cleaning her scraped knees."

"She's washing the dress," he hurried, "it's delicate."

"Well, then, nothing is here to stop me from talking to her," Saskia pushed the man inside and out of her way. "Where is she?"

"You can't!" the father screamed in panic. The young girl ran out of the room when she heard it. Saskia smiled upon seeing the child. She ran to check upon her abusive father, and she looked no older than twelve. She's brave and strong. _Blessed be her delicate dress._ Her eyes red and there's a red mark on her cheek. She was hit. Her knees were scrapped a bit, that's true, but there were no grass stains. The wounds were not deep enough for a bike accident.

"Go inside!" her father screamed at her. The girl stepped back, frightened and confused.

"Shut up," Saskia slapped the man with the tips of her fingers. It will sting, but the mark will be barely noticeable.

"Junichiro," detective said, "get the girl."

* * *

The man was apprehended, and the girl was given to the Child Protective Services. The house was being investigated for any more clues of abuse. Saskia didn't doubt that they would find something else inside. It's not like the man was a bright one. His lies were incredibly dumb. She wouldn't even need her "sixth sense" to see through the pile of…. lies he was trying to sell her.

"How did you know?" Tanizaki asked curiously.

"Didn't you hear what he said? He's one of the worst liars I've met," she answered, rubbing her temple.

"Headache?"

"You already have the makings of a great detective," she said. The boy stepped away from her, embarrassed.

"I mean it," Saskia added, noticing that she hurt the young boy, "you did good. You didn't panic. You calmed her down. You made her feel safe. I mean it, kid."

"Umm, thanks, Saskia-san. Saskia."

"I have a favour to ask," she carefully said.

"I didn't see anything," he promptly responded. The woman smiled brightly through the sting of pain that ran through her head.

"You'll go far, kid," detective put her hand on Junichiro's shoulder, "I wish you were old enough to be my partner."

Junichiro smiled brightly.


	2. Good reason for lying

A tall woman crouched over the papers, scattered all over her table. She occasionally sipped on her now warm coffee. The final case, the one she closed with Tanizaki. The girl's name was Mitsuru and she was going through Child Protective Services. Perhaps, her mother could take her in. Or some other relatives if not. But her father will go to prison. There was enough evidence that he abused the child physically and sexually. The final stroke of a pen. Her head fell on the table. Is this what sense of accomplishment felt like? Is this it, happiness, contentless? Satisfaction, perhaps? She couldn't name what she felt because all she could perceive right now was stinging in her eyes and ache in tired muscles.

It was alright. Saskia knew that happiness was ephemeral. Peace of mind, knowing that her pain brought someone closer to happiness was enough most of the days. On days like this one, it was quite a handful. There were days that were much worse than today. Days when they – scratch that – she couldn't help anyone. Days when her pain was a waste. Those days she disliked and often drank herself to sleep.

"It's done," she sighed contently. Her month of paperwork was finished. All it took was an all-nighter, large cup of coffee with a triple shot and self-hatred. _I'll just close my eyes…_ Her mind let go of the unpleasant reality, lulling itself to sleep.

The assault of light on closed eyelids and the abundance of sounds pulled her back into reality. The attack was worsened by general exhaustion. The department was waking up, people coming in and out. The sunlight coming in through the windows. Oh, she hated it. All this. The regular weekday things. Mornings. She opened her eyes, unhappy to be woken up so soon.

"Good morning, Saskia-san," the boy said. "Are you alright?"

"I am just peachy," Blok spoke bitterly. She lifted her head from the table. _Feels like a hangover but without the fun._

"Why are you here? It's a school day," she rubbed her eyes awake. Immediate regret. The rubbing made her eyes sting even more so. And the sensation confirmed that this was real. This is her reality where she fell asleep at her workplace. And Tanizaki was real too. In his regular attire of an oversized, light-coloured sweater, light blue pants and a red sweater is wrapped around his waist. She disliked the last bit. It didn't suit his orange her in her humble fashion opinion.

"I just needed to make a statement," he explained.

_Oh._

"I'll get you to school, kiddo," she said, getting up. Her body immediately reminded her of how she slept on the desk. Her neck cracked, back ached. Her body hated for the stupid decisions made. And it was fair retribution. Yet she owed a kid one. He lied for her. Not that she asked him to do it, he agreed before she asked for a favour. Yet he is saving her some trouble, she could repay him with the same card.

"Come," she prompted him to follow her. "I'll give you a ride."

"Thanks!" he replied, hurrying after.

"Happy to skip the bus ride?"

"Kinda."

"I would too."

They walked out of the police station, together, idly chatting about Tanizaki's studying. Saskia wasn't particularly interested in the matters of the police station. Who was working with whom, who had a conflicted with whom, or why one had this particular rank... Human affairs, she didn't like to be involved too much. It is as if diving into deep and troubled waters. Easy to be pulled in too deeply and drawn. Saskia Blok knows just enough to get by. That's why she didn't exactly question the involvement of Junichiro Tanizaki in police cases. Until now.

"Haven't you heard?" the teenager asked, confused.

"I probably just forgot," she shrugged. Before yesterday, they've met only once before and briefly. She had a whole station to learn about when she started so she didn't pay attention to some kid. Maybe his father was working here too or something like that. Maybe they were extremely understaffed and needed some manual labor done. Whatever. Didn't bother her.

"I have an ability," he answered.

"Ah, you are one of the gifted," she hummed thoughtfully. Yokohama was notorious for attracting ability users to its borders. She never had an encounter with an ability user before – not to her knowledge. Yokohama police either worked with them — which she avoided successfully during her short time employment — or handed the case to the gifted for it to be solved. The one she heard of the most was a…eh…..um…. She forgot his name. Never quite good with those. But she heard that his ability was incredible deduction and he could crack cases under a minute. They got to her car and she unlocked the doors.

"Don't you have one too?" Tanizaki asked, getting inside.

"Where did you get that idea?" the woman smirked. "I just have headaches but that's poor genetics."

She tried to dismiss the idea of being one of the gifted ones. The teenager thoughtfully hummed.

"I have two older brothers," he suddenly spoke. Saskia tsked, annoyed. People lied for many reasons and while she could never ignore the act itself she hated when it was done for nothing. A waste of air. A waste of suffering. _If you decide to lie, do it with a good reason, Tanizaki._

"And I have a crush on a girl at school."

_Tsk. Tsk._

"My ability allows me to nullify the powers of others."

Her hands gripped on the steering wheel tightened.

"I've killed a man and got away with it."

"Enough," she said, almost laughing, "that one is definitely a lie."

"How do you know?" he asked curiously.

"I've killed a man," she replied unmoved. "I know plenty of others who did. It's something you can tell. If you go through it."

"I work as an informant for the Detective Agency."

"Hmmm."

"I liked to torture animals in childhood."

_Tsk._

Blok rolled her eyes, "What game are you playing, kiddo?"

"I have a crush on you, Saskia-san!" he confessed. The woman laughed.

"Liar, liar," she spoke, voice still shaking from laughter. Yes, he caused her pain, but it was too ridiculous not to laugh at.

"How do you know?" Junichiro asked again, crossing his arms.

"I'm not stupid, that's how."

"What if I just confessed and you rejected me?"

"Boy, please," she laughed, "you are too distracting, we'll get into an accident."

Soon, the car slowed down due to the school's crossing. Tanizaki got out of the car with a sincere thank-you. She smiled at him but warned not to play games like this with her ever again. It made him look stupid.

"Saskia-san," he said right before closing the door. "Can I get your number?"

"What?" Blok asked, shocked. The boy smiled brightly and laughed.

"I told you I have a crush on you!" he said smiling widely. Saskia knew it was a lie but gave him the number. She also said that it was the last time she would ever give him a ride.

* * *

When the door closed, she sighed heavily, tired, exhausted. Annoyed. The light sipping through the blinds of the window, the silence of the lonely apartment… She welcomed it. Or that's what she used to tell herself. That this is how it was supposed to be. Relationships with people were to difficult for her to handle.

"Maybe I should get a cat," she sighed, looking around. Everything was just as she left it. There was no one to disturb the peace created and preserved. Or maybe it was just the absence of chaos. The silence and dullness that always waited for her here. It was her home, her asylum from other people. She feared she will always be reluctant to let someone in this concord. Even a cat for that matter. Plus, she wouldn't make a good pet owner. Yes, this will have to suffice She took off her boots, kicking them off wherever and walked inside, sighing contently.

There's an irony to her ability. A gift from God if there was one. But it worked more like his last joke. Her family was a lie. Her father, she knew his name and who he was. Never met him, however. She learned of him by stories she heard from her mother. Mother. That was a lie too. The woman who raised her wasn't her biological mother. The woman who gave birth to her was dead before Saskia could form any tangible memories. At this point in life, just a concept, an idea, not a real person.

She untied the belt of her steel-grey jacket and shook off the leather material. It felt on the floor with audible thump due to the contents of its pockets.

_'I love you, Saskia.'_

It never pained her. For it was the truth, the woman loved her. And she was love in return during her lifetime. How could the woman not be loved? She loved, she cared. She protected and supported. Saskia loved the woman she still would call her mother. She knew no other mother, no other form of motherly love.

Next was her light-grey shirt. It would have to be washed after those two heavy duty days.

_'You are my daughter.'_

Oh, no doubt she meant it. She meant every bit of it and meant it well. Nonetheless, it was a lie. And it hurt. In every possible sense. She never found adoption papers in the closet, she never got any sort of medical test to find out the truth. She was nine when she started to understand what that pain in her head meant.

The black, jogger-styled pants and sports bra. All she needed now was an oversized shirt and a blanket on top. No reason to stay awake. It's the end of the day. Tomorrow is a day off. She would be happy to get as much sleep in a bed as life was throwing her way.

_'Your father was a gifted man.'_

Saskia took it as a sign she was born for greatness. No such thing, she came to realize in her adulthood. But before lonely adulthood, there was a painful childhood. Children lie a lot to get out of trouble and to make other children like them. Adults lie to children too. Sometimes for sillier reasons. She remembered that day when she was nine. Coming home to her mother, hearing her welcoming her home. She received a hug and a warm smile. And most painful words of her childhood.

The woman climbed into bed, covering herself with a blanket to her nose.

_'Daughter.'_

She knew that instant that she wasn't. The pain shot through her head so severe she started to cry. Through the tears, young Saskia asked for the truth. A little child who had but one person to love and trust – her mother – had come to discover that it was a lie. That was difficult for both of them. No child should learn of adult's lies so cruelly. Her mother was relieved as much as she was hurting.

_'Your ability is much like your father's but kinder.'_

She wondered what it could mean. Because kindness was never a word she associated with it. Because people could not understand the pain it would her to hear them lie. No matter the reason, how big or how small. She heard every excuse and learned one simple thing: the act of lying is morally grey. But never to her. Under the layers of self-service and occasional sympathy, quite often there is this simple truth. People lied to protect only themselves.

_'I didn't tell you about her 'cause I didn't want you to worry!'_

He said and she knew that he lied. Perhaps, he lied because he liked the attention. Or because it was thrilling. Maybe he was bored or the relationship was falling apart. They were young. She didn't plan to marry him. He could have broken it off. Their relationship wasn't filled with grand words and long-term promises. But he chose to lie. He lied about the affair as well as the reasoning for his lie. There's a chance he never wanted for the issue to go for so long. It could be that he thought himself too great to be caught. He wrapped a lie in a lie in a lie like a present to be found and opened.

_'I knew how you'd react if I told you the truth! It was to protect you!'_

She was a friend and she chose not to be. She lied about things that mattered most. It's not to say she could never have thought about protecting Saskia's feelings. But the ability guaranteed that it wasn't the reasoning behind the lie. And, of course, there is this one, _'Those jeans look really good on you.' _In the end, Saskia Blok felt like heard all of it: every excuse, every innocent lie. In the end, she concluded that human relationships is a concoction requiring two main ingredients: the ability to lie and believe in the lie. Since she could never ignore it, she lacked one component to built such connections.

In the end, she felt had heard all of it: every justification, every white lie. And concluded that people had a complicated relationship with the lie. It was accepted as long as it didn't hurt anyone, right? Well, it always hurt her. People liked to protect their image or avoid conflict. Lies were told to get out of trouble and to shift the blame. It was rarely used to protect someone else but it wasn't unheard of. Humans lied for various reasons. And she knew she was not above single one of them.

She closed her eyes and went into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Greatest inventions

Saskia could always tell which invention was the greatest in human history. Earplugs and noise cancelling headphones have got to be it. What can be greater than being able to walk among the people without the fear of overhearing conversations that were had? Conversations that could and would inflict pain onto her. Earplugs allow her to walk among the crowd freely. Somewhat freely.

It was her day off work. But it doesn't mean she could just stay at home and do nothing. Living alone comes with many perks but pushing grocery shopping on someone else is not one of them. Some bills to pay as well. And, of course, on the day she has to be up and about, the weather is malicious. It's windy and cloudy. It might even rain. Here, in Yokohama… She tightened the belt of her jacket and pulled up the collar.

Watching the people move around in complete silence is different. Their mouths open but she cannot hear a thing. Drifting through the crowd, passing by… She was an observer of life, she figured. And she didn't like to be observed. Blok turned around. Nothing unusual. The flow of people with nothing unusual but why does she feel spied on? _I'm just tired and on edge._ It was nothing, she told herself, just a bit of paranoia that came with the absence of sounds around her, right? After all, this self-inflicted deafness leaves her exposed.

_What's this? _She felt the vibrations of her phone in the pocket. Someone was calling her on her day off?

"Not work again," she mumbled. But the display only said two dreaded words in the existence of cellular connection: unknown caller. It was only there a moment and the call ended. Saskia shrugged it off. It was likely to be an advertisement or a scheme.

* * *

"I can't do it," the man protested, raising his hands in defense. "It might not work on me." He was confident that he looked innocent. But he was also sure the act wasn't bought into. Giving the situation, only an idiot would buy into it. And his partner wasn't one. But it was entertaining to put on the act. The other man looked at him with scrutiny. His eyes narrowed in suspicion of what his partner just came up with. What else would he be calling about, right? Some scheme that he can't pull of alone.

"How are you so sure?" he asked, giving up. His partner will give up now if he went as far as to tail the woman. She does look exactly how Tanizaki had described her. But that doesn't mean it was her.

"I knew you'd ask for proof," the dark-haired man shrugged, pulling off his phone. The fair-haired one watched the woman on the other side of the street. That hair, that jacket, all fit the given description. But if he was about to do what he thought he'd have to do, he wanted to be absolutely sure there's no mistake. Otherwise, that would not be ideal.

"You stole her number from Tanizaki's phone?" the blond man asked, unsurprised. The other one just shrugged and smiled innocently. Not buying it.

"What do you want me to do?" the taller one asked, irked.

"Oh, so you agree?" the brunette smiled. "Well, then," the smile grew wider. There was a spark in his brown eyes. A spark on interest and excitement.

* * *

"Ugh, coffee, large, milk instead of cream, no sugar," she said, looking at the barista. "For B.L.O.K." The young man easily put everything in the register. The price of her drink popped up. Saskia took out her wallet to pay but someone's hand stopped her. Her eyes drifted up and up the hand to see a tall man, taller than she was, stopping her from making the payment. Instead, he opened his mouth, talking to the barista. The price went up. The stranger paid. Blok just watched him in confusion until he gestured her to take off her earplugs. _He noticed?_ She reluctantly did so. If he decided to pay for her drink that was his choice to make.

"Allow me," the man said, fixing his glasses. Saskia cocked her head, watching the man. He was tall, blond and wore glasses. The prim and proper outfit, hair pulled in a ponytail. Nothing suggested that he was a lowlife.

"Why?" the woman asked. One earplug still between her fingers.

"Why does a man buy a drink for a woman?" he spoke.

"Sorry, not interested," Saskia replied. She was about to put her plug back in when the strange man started to talk again.

"My name is Tetsuo," he introduced himself and offered a hand.

_Tsk. _She looked at him skeptically. Lying right away about his name? Con artist? She didn't go for the handshake.

"I must say, you are my ideal woman," he continued. His face didn't betray a single emotion, but she already knew he lied. Definitely a con artist. _Not even a good one. You don't talk about such emotions with a straight face._ Her lips in a thin line, losing patience with the man.

"From the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one for me," he finished. Saskia rubbed her temple in irritation and frustration, "Thanks, but as I said, I am not interested."

The barista announced her order and placed two cups with hot beverages. One of them spelled _Blok__. _But the second one didn't spell the name of the man.Saskia turned away from the man to grab her coffee. When she turned back around, the man was looking away from her, at the line of people waiting to be served.

"Thanks, _Tetsuo,__" _Blok said with venom, "for the coffee."

Kunikida nodded in acceptance, "So you reject my passion for you?"

_Tsk. Why wouldn't he give it a rest? _

"Yeah, that's what I mean by not being interested," she replied calmly. The man reached out to her. She stepped back, "Don't." She warned before pulling out her badge. Any man would be surprised to see her badge, even more so, any man who behaved this way towards an officer would be caught by surprise. Not this one. He stepped away, politely nodded, and took his drink.

"I meant every word, however," was the last thing she heard from that man. She put in her earplug, "Come near me again and I will arrest you for harassment."

_Tsk_. Saskia touched her temple again. Couldn't help that fact that it hurt a lot now. That guy could have kept his mouth shut but he had to say that one last lie, didn't he? Like a nail in the coffin, the last lie caused her most pain. Now grocery shopping will not be fun anymore. All she wanted and needs and can think about is getting something stronger with her coffee. But its just past noon._ Let's exercise some self-control. _

* * *

The brunette sipped on his extremely sweet tea. He looked at the man sitting across from him and smiled in amusement. He knew the reasons behind his partner's anger, and it amused him greatly. After all, he and his ideas were always a cause for Kunikida's discomfort and anger.

"Kunikida-kun," Dazai cooed, seeking for the buttons to push, "what's wrong?"

"You damn well know what's wrong," the man replied angrily. "Your plan was to make me like a pervert in public?!" he hissed in anger. Dazai continued to smile and sip on his tea. It took a few second until Kinikida Doppo took a deep breath and got a grip on his frustration, "So it's true then."

Dazai's smile disappeared. He didn't wish to display the wickedness that surfaced within him when he observed the woman. Every time Kuninkida said something ridiculously stupid, Dazai saw how she reacted. _Pain._ Not to mention the earplugs she wore.

"Uh-uh," Osamu nodded, "it doesn't seem she had any control over it."

"And you think she could be useful in tracking the gifted who escaped from Port Mafia?"

"Of course!" he answered with that child-like innocence and excitement._ She better._

* * *

_Tanizaki Junichiro was a brother to Naomi, an informant in Armed Detective Agency and worked part-time at the police station. And he had to admit that he admired the work Detective Blok had done yesterday. For one, he was taken by her confidence. Though her actions were harsh, she was confident, and it paid off. Yesterday saved a young girl from being molested and abused. Saskia Blok helped the helpless. And so did he. He had to tell the story. And it's like they were doing anything right now. The president called everyone at the office saying he had some news to deliver. So, everyone was here already. Doctor Yosano, reading a magazine at her table. Edogawa-san was eating something sweet. Kunikida, ever responsible, was working on something on his computer. And then there was Dazai, who was most relaxed of all, taking up the whole couch for himself. The younger member of the Agency got around the table to listen to what he had to tell. Naomi, of course, beside him. Atsushi with Kyoka by his side. And Kenji._

_"She slapped him!" he spoke eagerly. That was his favourite part. It was wrong to like it but he did anyway._

_"She shouldn't have laid a hand on a suspect," Edogawa criticized._

_"It's true," added Kunikida without looking away from his work, "it could prove damaging to the case."_

_Well, now it was impossible to admit that Tanizaki planned on lying on his statement. He said he would do so. He said he would lie for Detective Blok because... because she was right and that man deserved what he got. And because of this boyish fascination, he had with the incident. But saying that he would lie for such reasons...That would disappoint about every second colleague. Possibly even the president. Yet he decided he would do it so he would. But now Tanizaki was lost. All he wanted was to tell a cool story to Atsushi and get some praise...maybe. Because of a real police officer — scratch that — a real homicide detective praised him for doing a good job. He wanted to share this with someone other than his sister. Someone like Atsushi who could be happy for him. And Kyoka and Kenji who were his friends too. But now it turned into a mess. Edogawa questions his temporary hero. Kunikida, his superior, is also not on his side. Tanizaki thought and hoped that older ADA members would ignore this boyish excitement._

_ "Well, yes, but —"_

_"They are right," passively added Yosano. "But she sounds cool."_

_Dazai was laying on the couch with his headphones on suddenly joined the conversation, "Does she seem like the type to commit double suicide?"_

_Only Dazai-san in his usual manner talks about suicide. Ignoring what everyone else seemed to be paying attention to._

_"No, Dazai-san," Junichiro answered. Dazai Osamu got up from the couch and joined the two younger boys, "Start again, please."_

* * *

Detective Blok detested many things in life: crowded places, sweet coffee, unsolved cases. Just like this one. It wasn't her case and the only reason she was here was due to the detective in charge of the investigation couldn't be deployed. So, it was her and another officer from the homicide department. In the ground was the body of a woman. The body was in poor shape due to being in the ground for a long time. But she was still recognizable.

"Takara Koharu," Detective Ueda Hiroto commented, "she's been missing." His gloved hands searched the pockets of her clothes. It didn't look like he found anything.

"Who found it?" Blok asked, putting on her gloves.

"Gardener," came the reply, "the house is for sale."

"Expensive part of town," she observed.

"Yes. That's why they do maintenance once a month on the property. To keep it appealing for potential buyers. And so the gardener came and found a suspicious looking patch of earth."

"He dug her up?"

"Uh-huh."

"Must have been a sight."

"She lived not far from here."

"Was it her husband who committed suicide?" Blok asked, looking at the body. It was a woman in her thirties with short jet-black hair that was covered in dirt. How else could she describe the body except for the fact that it was dead for some time and poorly preserved? It was a dead body. They are all pale and cold. Sometimes covered in blood or dirt. Possibly a bit decomposed but nothing much different.

"Yes," he confirmed, "he did cut open his throat with a knife." He spoke grimly. Blok could understand why. The case was gruesome, she heard, and remained unsolved. Takara Hibiki — the husband of the dead woman — was found dead and the evidence left little doubt that it wasn't suicide. What was strange is that the wife was missing and spotted only once in public. She wasn't the one who called the police, she never showed up at the precinct to make a statement. No visit to a hospital, no calls made from her phone. She was caught on a security camera once. And now she was found dead. And in a very different place from the last she was spotted in.

"Can't see anything that would suggest she was murdered," the woman observed.

"Not for us to decide that," the detective noted. She hummed in agreement.


	4. May the God forbid it

_"She had a headache by the end of it?" asked Dazai Osamu. Tanizaki nodded positively. Detective Blok even admitted to having chronic migraines. Poor genetics she called it. And it was not unheard of in the department. Just like her sixth sense._

_"When do you think her headache started?" the brunette questioned. Tanizaki had to think about that. He closed his eyes, trying to remember everything as clearly as he could. He remembered looking at that sky-blue door that wasn't matching the house. He stood there with her, waiting for the door to open. And then the man showed and Tanizaki looked at the detective. And then she winced as if in pain after the apology._

_"Is that right?" Osamu asked thoughtfully. Junichiro confirmed with confidence. He couldn't be wrong about this. He saw it with his own eyes._

_"What else?"_

_And Junichiro recalled everything else. How Detective Blok grimaced listening to the man's explanation. And that she rubbed her temple when the man obviously started to lie poorly. He didn't think through his lies. Tanizaki caught on the inconsistencies too. Dazai had a small smile on his face, "Anyone wants to play cards while we are waiting?" he shifted from one topic to another._

_"Sure," agreed Junichiro._

_"Let's play for a wish."_

* * *

Sakia's ability was allowing her to sense lie when spoken but not written. Blessed by this wretched gift but it did allow her to enjoy films and plays without excruciating pain. She suspected it was because it wasn't real in the first place. No one lies in an artificial environment. Saskia Blok had an ability to sense lie when spoken and not written. That's why her eyes scanned the statements of witnesses of the Takara case she sensed nothing. Written statements, word-to-word transcripts wouldn't give up their secrets to her so easily. The ability to sense lies when said out loud. She wished her ability would allow her to manipulate luck because she was the one to draw the short straw and do the paperwork on this call. The husband was dead, the woman was dead too. The preliminary examination couldn't find any signs of violence in her death. Perhaps, Takara Koharu found her husband dead at home, under shock and terror she ran away from home, knowing that her husband killed himself in such a manner. She may have even felt betrayed by such selfishness. And then she was spotted on the opposite side of the city. And what happened next? She didn't kill herself and bury herself in that yard.

_"_It doesn't make sense," she whispered. "But… it is also not my case. It's not even a case anymore."

Saskia Blok possessed an ability to always tell the truth from the lie and it came with a price. Saskia Blok was also a detective with Yokohama police force. And sometimes she needed to remind herself that her ability wasn't a god's gift. She wasn't a part of his Grand Design. And she wasn't here to do his job either. The only suspect the police could possibly have was found dead. The missing woman was found dead. There's no case. It wasn't even her case. It's over.

_Who buried her?_

* * *

"I heard you closed a case!" spoke familiar voice behind her. Detective Blok turned around to take a look at the one speaking with her, "I didn't close the case, just finished paperwork, Junichiro."

"What was it?" he asked curiously. She thought for a moment. She could not describe the whole picture. Junichiro was young. And he will get to see his share of horrors and unsolved cases if police work is something he continues to pursue. The youngling was curious and capable and smart. All she could do was to postpone the disappointments that would come for him in this line of work.

"Family tragedy," she shrugged it off. Sometimes she wondered if what if would be like o use her own ability on herself. Would this statement be a lie? Perhaps. But that's what it ultimately was. A tragedy and nothing more. There couldn't be a case because there was no basis for crime. Suicide might be wrong in the eyes of certain religions but not in the eyes of the law. Takara Koharu was dead, but her death wasn't a violent one. And she was buried in the ground. Someone must have done that. Sure, anyone involved with that case wondered who could have done that. But there's no evidence, no ground to open the case. No one even pressed for the case to be opened. No family members showed up asking for justice. In the eyes of the law, there was nothing for them to go on from. _It's over._

"Saskia-san —"

"Just Saskia," she corrected. "Sorry, but did you call me two days ago?"

"Huh? No."

"Do that now."

"Okay," the boy sounded dumbfounded. The phone in Saskia's jacket vibrated and she smiled. She will save that number just in case. And nothing to worry, it is exactly as she thought. Nothing to be worried about. Probably just random call from scheme or an advertisement.

"Something you wanted to say, Junichiro?" she asked when the phone stopped vibrating. The woman placed her hand on the boy's shoulder as a way to apologize for her rude interruption and to encourage him to talk again. Her eyes met his hazel ones. His young but not as young she judged him to be. Those hazel eyes contained bits of familiar sadness that comes with growing up fast.

"Say, Saskia, how do you feel about gifted people?" Tanizaki asked looking straight at her. The woman hummed in thought, "Well, I know about them, anyone in the police department did," she carefully answered, "and I know you. But ultimately they don't bother me."

"You didn't question my ability," the boy noted. Ah, yes, that conversation. She remembered him talking a lot in her car on the way to school. He lied a lot that day and without a good reason. She couldn't appreciate that. Unless, of course, the reason was to provoke her. But that didn't work, did it?

"Well, what would be the point of my sixth sense if I couldn't tell if a teenager was lying to me?"

"You said it's an unmistakable feeling when someone lies to you…"

"It is," she spoke despondently. Saskia retracted her hand back into the pocket of her jacket. His eyes watched her face and not her movements. Searching for something? Tanizaki was a smart young man but his actions made little sense within the character she took him for. The day she returned from that call, she asked around about Tanizaki Junichiro. He was trying to provoke her. Now he was trying to bait her. Either her judgment was wrong, or his actions were out of character.

"Imagine being lied to so often you learned to see through them so easily as I do," the woman smiled. It was a genuine smile but not a happy one. Melancholic. Junichiro figured out how to talk to her in order to get her talking. And she was taking the bait. But just enough as to not worry him with the absence of answers.

"You are saying it's experience?" Tanizaki asked with an irked brow.

"What else could it be?"

"An ability?" he asked unnerved.

"Ha! You still on that, kid?"

"I'm just saying it's possible."

"Don't you think I would have known about it by now?"

"Yeah, I believe you would."

_Tsk._

"Is that why you joined the force? To help and protect people?"

"That would be awfully noble," she said, "but no. I just thought I'd be most useful in this profession."

He couldn't know the real answer. Where do people lie a lot? First dates, sure, and job interviews. They also lie a lot when there's a possibility of them going to prison. So that's why. It's not a noble thing. Blok never considered herself to be a great cop. She knows where and when she made a mistake. She knew where and when a difference was made too. It wasn't too hard to figure out how to operate this gift. Just needed to develop two important skills.

Common sense: yelling and accusing a suspect of lying would never help. And disclosing her ability was never an option. She wanted to have a resemblance of life no matter how shitty it was. Second, is to know and understand your limits. She only knows when someone lies. Her ability doesn't disclose the reason for lying, neither does it reveal the truth. But when her ability is triggered during an investigation, she just digs deeper.

"Wouldn't you like to be surrounded by people who were just like you?"

She didn't answer._ God forbid, Junichiro, god forbid._

* * *

There's been a call on her phone from a known number. The number she saved on her phone a few days ago. It was her day off, though! She had no desire to be out there. She wanted this day to herself. Free of any headache. And that could only be guaranteed by staying inside and on her own. She was pissed but picked up the phone.

"I know you don't have a crush on me, Junichiro," the woman nonchalantly spoke. "What's your game?"

"I'm in trouble… in danger, even."

_It wasn't a lie._


	5. Positive hesitance

_"This ability user can prove problematic," Kunikida said. "The chaos he could unleash is unimaginable."_

_All current members of the Armed Detective Agency were summoned to the office with urgency. No one could have even guessed what kind of urgency it was. Fukuzawa looked at everyone gathered here. The news he delivered were immediate and grave danger. And he himself couldn't yet figure out how to approach the potential danger. Kunikida Doppo was tense and serious. Yosano Akiko looked worried. Edogawa Ranpo seemed disturbed by the news. And everyone else wore a common troubled expression on their face when faced with news like this. Everyone except Dazai Osamu._

_"He is dangerous," president Fukuzawa nodded, "and is our top priority."_

_"But how are we supposed to catch him?" Yosano asked. If she was honest with herself, she was terrified by the news. There was an incredibly dangerous individual out there if Port Mafia decided to warn their enemy about him._

_"Dr. Yosano is right," Kunikida supported, "the man is very problematic to identify even with Port Mafia's information being correct."_

_"I see no reason for them to lie," Dazai interrupted. Of all, he was most relaxed with the current situation. While everyone's eyes were hard and their shoulder were tense, Dazai was casually — almost lazily — resting gin his seat. His partner gave him a suspicious glance._

_"I agree with Dazai," the president spoke. "Port Mafia's intelligence about the ability user is still limited, however, one thing is undeniable about his gift: he is able to assume the perfect physical copy of his victim."_

_"We are looking for a needle in a haystack," Doppo spoke gravely. "And the needle pretends to be hay too."_

_"Say, Kunikida," Dazai chuckled, "how does one find a needle a haystack?"_

_"Burn the haystack?"_

_"Or use a magnet."_

* * *

She arrived at the place as fast as she could. She expected a boy his age to be somewhere like an arcade, something more social. But this looked very unlike that. Why would Tanizaki be here and what was he doing? More importantly, what the trouble he mentioned? The second floor of the building belonged to a law firm. Something wasn't right. The third floor was listed as vacant, for rent. And the forth didn't have anything on it either according to the navigation tablet near the entrance. But Junichiro was in trouble, that was the part she didn't doubt. And if she could help, she would. He called her, after all. She opened the door and walked inside to find… quite a scene. There were signs of struggle. A young woman laying on her back on the table. Unmoving but breathing. Yes, definitely breathing. Probably knocked unconscious. Saskia found Tanizaki. He was tied, tape over his mouth. Next to him was a boy with grey hair, couldn't be older than Junichiro. Tied, mouth taped. Both placed in the far corner of the room with a bomb between them. Then she found a man in sand-coloured coat, sitting atop a table on the opposite side of the room, casually reading a book._ Final Exit._

"Oh, one more?" he asked. "The more, the better!" he spoke gleefully as the bomb counted a few seconds more. She made a few more steps into the office, slowly, looking around. The office was messy, signs of struggle, perhaps? Two boys tied up around a bomb. The unconscious woman. How did this happen? Why did he call her and not the police? She looked at the only person she recognized. He made some intangible sounds. Damn it. Saskia looked at the perpetrator. He was smiling. Malicious. Wide. Amusement in his eyes.

"I always wanted to die with a woman by my side!" he exclaimed. Saskia's eyes widened in shock. _Nothing._ Was he truthful right now? A suicidal bomber?

"I am detective Blok," she said, taking pout her badge. "Name yourself."

"Name's Dazai Osamu," the man said. "I expected you to be a part of the Agency. It's a shame you got involved, truly, I have nothing against you."

"Stand up," she commanded.

"No," he answered nonchalantly, turning another page in his book.

She needed to provoke him. It couldn't be. She could always tell the truth from the lie. He cannot be an exception. Even the gifted Tanizaki wasn't immune. _I work as an informant at the Detective Agency,_ she remembered his words. Could this be the office of the Agency he worked for? Goddamn if it was. _I have an ability._ Those were no lies. _My ability can nullify the powers of others._ That was a lie. Tanizaki Junichiro was gifted, why wouldn't he use it? Non-combative? But it had to be something. _Damn it, I should have asked._ The boy was playing a game of trying to figure her out, started spewing stupid lies… _Stop panicking, idiot._ She took a deep breath and hummed, calmly taking out the gun out of the holster on her waist. No one calls her on her day off claiming to be in trouble in Yokohama and her not taking a gun with her. The city is filled with gifted ones and criminals. Too often those were the same people. Few more steps towards the hostages. The aggressor —the man who introduced himself as Dazai — didn't stop her. But he did put down his book. She needed to see how much time she had, which meant letting the man out of her eyesight if even for a second.

00:01:54

"Are you gifted?" Blok asked. Eyes on him. There's no fear in this freak. He's determined to die.

"Yes," the man answered. "With good looks. And an ability."

_Nothing. He thinks himself good looking? _

"Not immortality?"

"No, that would be the worst ability ever!" he said dramatically. He wasn't moved by the threat. _He could be gifted with invulnerability to be so cocky._ But if he just lied, why couldn't she feel it? The woman looked at the bomb.

00:01:44

"Why do you want to blow them up? What did they do to you?"

"They work with the Agency. And the Agency did me wrong. It's also a great way to commit suicide!"

"Jump off a bridge," the woman offered.

"I tried."

_Nothing. Think. Think._

"Don't want to die alone so you decided to kill two kids along with your pathetic self?" Blok inquired. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Trying to read me?" he questioned. "You are better than I thought you would be."

She shrugged. The gun in her hand now pointed at the boy with grey hair. Something about it just doesn't feel right. Something is amiss. If this is the office of the detective agency — the _Armed_ Detective Agency — where are the ability users? How could one man take over the whole office of gifted people? This man alone doesn't look like much. And if his ability was truly so destructive, why not just wipe them out? Why bomb? Why wait?

"I'll kill them all before the bomb blows up," she shrugged again.

"You are a cop. You wouldn't," he countered calmly. Coldly. _He's reading me. _

"It will detonate after I'm gone. What's here to prove I even was here?"

"The bullets, the security cameras," he lazily answered. "Also, what about him?" the man nodded at the tied up Tanizaki.

"Ah," she smiled. This Dazai knew about her "relationship" with the teenager. A very fast friendship as she would call it. Wouldn't it make sense for Tanizaki to ask for her number and now be in sudden trouble. And choose to call her instead of the police. But Junichiro wasn't lying on the phone._ I am working as an informant at the Detective agency._ The man before her was immune to her ability. No one is. Even psychopaths. The gun was now pointed at the bomber again.

"I'll shoot you so don't get in my way," she warned, cocking the gun.

00:01:01

"But I want to die!" Dazai shouted, launching at her. Bang! The sound of the shot stopped Dazai only for a second. Until he understood her bluff. But that second was enough for her to throw a violent punch in Dazai's face. She can't just go around shooting the issued bullets from an issued gun.

00:00:52

The man stumbled backwards from the punch. The punch came out a bit too strong. Oh, well, she didn't feel guilty or sorry. It gave just enough time for her to dash towards two hostages. Saskia ripped off the tape from Tanizaki's mouth.

"What the hell is going on?!" her voice thunderous in the room.

00:00:44

The young man was obviously disappointed. He lowered his eyes. The only word he spoke to her were of a genuine apology. The apology didn't stop, truth be told.

"I'm sorry, Saskia-san," Junichiro said again, lowering his head to his knees. _Dammit it, kid._ He wasn't lying, sincere to the bone, but Blok was looking for answers right now. To hell with you all. The woman patted Tanizaki on a shoulder, trying to assure him that she wasn't mad. Frustrated, however, that she sure was. This was all fishy. And Junichiro alone couldn't pull it off. Meaning…

"Dazai-san!" shouted the boy with grey hair, running to help. The man showed his nose, swollen and red but not broken. Some blood ran down to his upper lip. The boy offered a napkin which was accepted. Saskia put away her gun filled with blanks. The woman who was laying on the table got up, revealing herself to be unharmed.

"Let him bleed a little," she said, straightening out her clothing. "Dr. Yosano Akiko, nice meeting you."

"Homicide detective Saskia Blok. Right back at you."

Two women shook their hands while measuring each other. The two looked nothing alike. Yosano had black straight hair that reached just past her chin. Saskia's hair was a mess, however natural that mess was. Frizzy brown curls ended just past her shoulders. Doctor Yosano wore feminine clothing, a contrast of black and white. Blok preferred to stick to blacks. She was also taller, wider in shoulders. Opposites.

"She couldn't shoot a civilian," commented Dazai. The door in the office opened and three men entered. The first one to show was the tall blond man with his hair in a ponytail. Then was a man with silver hair. He was older than any other person here. He had eyebags under those cold blue of his. Behind him was a man in brown cape and hat. She could recognize him as the detective who was helping out the police every now and then.

"She could," said the man with blond hair. "You were a threat to her and others and refused to follow commands."

"The bomb weren't real. Just like her bullets."

"You!" shouted Blok. It was the man from the coffee shot. The creep! She remembered him well. And she definitely remembered what she promised to do if he showed himself near her. _No…_ If this man was a part of the Agency that Tanizaki worked at, it means they knew about her. They tailed her. They baited her.

"Why punch me?" the man in the long coat asked, smiling. He wiped the blood from his face, but there was a faint trace of it.

"Found you annoying." She shrugged. He pouted.

"She's a good judge of character," Kunikida said with a faint smile.

"I told you to stay away from me," Saskia warned.

"I remember," he acknowledged. "I apologize for my behaviour the last time we met," he bowed. Blok almost staggered back in surprise of his actions. He bowed to her in apology. She didn't feel any pain.

"Allow me to explain," Kunikida said, moving forward. "My name is Kunikida Doppo. We all here are members of the Armed Detective Agency. And you are gifted."

"If that's your way to put it," she smirked.

Kunikida looked at her, his eyes hard and calculating. But she wouldn't bend to a man's stare. She ran her hand through her hair and looked at Dazai who was now standing right behind Kunikida.

"What's your deal, overcoat?" she tilted her head to a side, giving him the same once over.

"Hm?"

"What's your ability?"

"Dazzling smile!"

He did give her a wide white smile. But that's not how this works. Someone lies, she senses it. What is with this one? There was nothing. She sensed nothing. And he knew it. He was smiling innocently at her. _He knows._ She hated it.

"My ability nullifies other abilities," the man said with the same smile. "So… You can't tell if I'm lying or not. Fewh!" he wiped the non-existent sweat from his forehead. Theatrical. Blok didn't need the ability to know that this man was overly theatrical. She looked at Tanizaki and shook her head.

"You really need to learn how to lie if you going to do it."

"Heh," Junichiro smiled at that.

"I wouldn't call it a pass," the man with silver hair finally spoke.

"As I said, President, her ability would taint this test," the one behind said.

"Test?" Blok asked, confused.

"For you to join the Agency," Doppo said, pushing the glasses up his nose.

"I don't want to join, though?" she asked, more confused. Saskia Blok never wanted to be a part of this world. The world of the gifted ones. She saw what it does since Port Mafia weren't very subtle with their operations. She also knew of many others, even across the world, organizations and groups of gifted ones that were creating chaos whenever it pleased them. They were also those who sought order too but they don't get featured in the crime news often. Whatever side this agency belonged to, Saskia Blok wouldn't be a part of it. For the simple reason of "I don't want to".

"Why not?" asked Dazai.

"Don't want to, don't care, have full-time employment with benefits and a retirement plan."

"Boooring."

"You here," she added, quieter.

"Mean!"

"Enough," the President said. So, you are it. Unmistakably, his age and the aura of authority indicated that he was the head of this organization. Saskia graced the man with a quick glance. Yet their eye met. In a quick exchange, they understood an important thing about each other: they do not bend. She will not bend to his will, whatever that may be, and neither will he.

"If she doesn't want to join, we cannot and will not force her," the man commanded. Everyone nodded in agreement. Saskia never quite got to experience such reverence for one person. From everyone in the room. Except for Dazai. He was the only one who didn't indicate any sort of agreement with the previous statement. His face was that of calm neutrality, apathy even. But it matters not, does it? Blok walked across to Junichiro, smiling with satisfaction that the ruckus will be over soon. They planned it all for nothing. A detective agency indeed.

"What trouble were you in?" Saskia asked, coming closer to Junichiro. That is one thing she didn't doubt. However small that trouble might be, she came here because of it. And then came was the whole thing with entrapment.

"Oh, he is in trouble," spoke Kunikida, "but nothing you can help him with."

Saskia flicked the young man's forehead. How dare he get her into this situation to join an organization she didn't want to join? Little liar. He figured her out. He will go far as a detective.

"Tanizaki, Atsushi," Doppo said calmly, "make our guest feel welcomed."

Two boys nodded. Every other employee of the Agency disappeared behind the door. It said "President Fukuzawa Yukichi" on it. The young man invited her to have some tea to which she couldn't say no to. For a few moments she believed the situation to be real and it almost made her lose her mind. Some tea would do her good. So, the two of the relaxed, sipping tea.

"I'm sorry," Junichiro spoke sincerely. "It was my fault. When I asked you if you wanted to be surrounded by people like you, you didn't give an answer. So, I took it as positive hesitance."

"Positive hesitance?" Saskia irked a brow. "I don't think it's a thing, kiddo."

"I thought that you wanted to a part of something like the Agency but couldn't admit it."

"Ah," she hummed, sipping on her tea. It wasn't all bad then. No, the day is totally ruined. And she had no idea what will come from this situation. They didn't just dismiss her after her refusal to join. It wouldn't be the end of it. Something bigger is at play here.

"So, what's your trouble?"

"Oh, that," Junichiro rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably. "I have to clean this up," he gestured at the mess on the office. Saskia measured the damage done to the office. There is a difference between the signs of a struggle and someone wanting it to look like it. That's what was throwing her off from the beginning. Something amiss.

"The tall blonde was right, I can't help here," the woman replied.

"Don't worry, I have help."

Atsushi waved at her, "I'm Atsushi Nakajima." The boy smiled at her. Blok remembered one unpleasant thing about herself: she aimed the gun at him. She rubbed her forehead in embarrassment. She aimed the gun at a teenager. A helpless, tied up hostage. "Tied up hostage".

"I'm sorry for aiming the gun at you," the woman said with an awkward smile.

"It's okay," he said genuinely. "I knew you wouldn't shoot."

"Why don't you tell the department of your ability?" Tanizaki chimed in.

"Can you imagine what would happen if I told them? First, I would know no rest as everyone would ask me to be present for any questioning or interrogation, which would give me non-stop pain," she said, pointing at her temple. "I can't control it. It is always on. Secondly, everyone who is even remotely friendly with me would not speak to me for dear life."

"Oh," was all he could say as the realization hit him. "I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

"For the time in the car. I was lying to you on purpose. I must have given you a headache."

"All is forgiven, kid," she fixed him a smile.

The door of the president's office opened again with a creak. First came out Yosano. Her face remained passive and she walked out on them with an expression Saskia could only describe as 'cold rage'. Who was left inside, again? _That arrogant one, the forgiven creep, the great detective and the oldest._ Next, Kunikda Doppo came out. Straight face, unreadable. The last one who walked out seemed most okay with whatever happened inside. The detective's face was neutral but not forced like Kunikida's. He even spared Blok a gesture of goodwill. He waved her goodbye before leaving. Kunikida asked her to come inside the office._ Two left inside. The one with a smile. And the president._ Blok stood up and walked into the office. Two men were waiting for her. The man with silver hair dressed in Japanese clothing. His eyes were unsettling. Deep and cold and unintelligible. And next to him was the nullifier. He gave her a smile. It's arrogant, Saskia concluded. And overly confident. Annoying, basically. The door behind her was closed from the outside.

"You are helping us," Dazai said casually yet confidently.

"Interesting proposition," Blok said, "but I'll pass."

"I'm not asking."

She looked at him, closely now. Reddish-brown eyes, short dark hair. A bit wavy, a bit messy. Tall, slim and with a fair complexion. Sand-coloured coat, under which was a black vest, a dress shirt. A bolo tie, she deemed a bit old-fashioned, with a turquoise pendant. Beige pants, dark shoes, white bandages… The latter she didn't notice before. She took it for the sleeves of the shirt. _Interesting..._But her observing him didn't go unnoticed. He observed her too. She knew what he could see. She saw herself every day in the mirror. Big dark-green eyes with big dark undereye circles. A heavy silence settled between the three.

"Intimidating me won't work," Saskia spoke up.

"Won't it?" he said. "I can make a complaint about you for punching me in the nose."

"So what?"

"And Tanizaki can change his statement."

"The first is just an inconvenience, my record is too good. Your nose isn't even broken, so good luck. And even if Tanizaki changes his statement, at this point in the case, it just makes him an unreliable witness."

The man coked his head. Something in his eyes changed, yet Saskia couldn't quite put a finger on it. Her eyes travelled to the president. He offered her a seat with a gesture. Welcoming, sure, but it wasn't enough to sway her. So, she refused the offer.

"What was your ability, again? Sensing lies?" Dazai asked. That arrogant, confident smile of his turned into a wicked smirk.

_No._

"You kept it a secret for so long… It would be a shame if it got out."

_That asshole._ Her hands formed tight fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palm, leaving crescent marks. Maybe she should have broken that asshat's nose.

"You wouldn't dare," she looked Dazai in the eye. She doesn't have a thing to hold above their heads. They are an agency with a license. They were known in Yokohama, they worked with the police. Sure, there were a few blemishes in their history, but they were all public and resolved already. The only thing she could possibly use against them is Kunikida's behavior when they first met and that was a laughable thing to have. Plus, he sincerely apologized to her.

"Would I?" he irked a brow. "Help us out and you can go."

"Why me?"

"Because of your ability, of course."

"If I do, will you leave me be?"

"Sure."

"No, not you. I need someone else to say it."

Green eyes fixed on the man wearing a yukata. His expression did not falter., eyes never softened.

"You have my word," the man said. "And more."

"You know," said Osamu, with a light smirk on his face, "I figured you out," he pointed on a piece of paper on the table. Saskia came closer to look at it. On top was a check for a good enough sum to convince her to help. And below was a contract letter already signed by the president Fukuzawa Yukichi. One-time help in exchange for their silence and non-disturbance. She keeps their secrets, they keep hers. She looked up at Dazai who already offered her a pen. All she needed to do was help them close the case. She can do that, she just didn't want to. But what choice does she have now? If she refused them, her life would get incredibly difficult. Green eyes fixated on the man in a coat. Him. It had to be him. _The mastermind_. She took the pen and signed her name. _Blok Alexandra._


	6. Opportunity of a life time

"You know pathetically little," Saskia said, dipping her sushi roll in soy sauce. Dazai whispered something unflattering judging by the tone.

"Why do you think Port Mafia contacted you?" she asked, chewing on her roll.

"Such power would create chaos," the man answered after chewing. "The man, whoever he is, threatens everything as he can become anyone. Me, you, the mayor, Port Mafia's leader, the president. Anyone."

"That's not it," she hummed. Dazai smiled in agreement._ Twinkle-twinkle little star, I would hit you with my car._ Something about the man sitting in front of her was ominous. The fact she cannot sense him is above average irritation. She had no doubts he was lying, just couldn't tell about what. Perhaps, everything.

"You too think it's strange that Port Mafia came to us?" he questioned. The same smile played on his face. Not amused or mocking, it wasn't polite or kinds either. What is it about his expression that is so hard to place? Ambiguous, warped…

"I don't…." Blok sighed, defeated. She could tell she didn't give a damn, which would be true. But it's not a question of her interest or care. If she doesn't help, they can expose her. And there are reasons she'd consider the information given to her a bit too detailed. She was a part of the police force, why tell her that Port Mafia was involved in this too? To make her conflicting life even more complicated? There wasn't even a guarantee her ability could help find this ability user. However, it doesn't seem all that unlikely.

"Think," Dazai demanded. "Why would they come to us to tell on some traitor?"

"His ability?"

"What does it matter? So many in Port Mafia are gifted — some terribly so — they could track him down without us getting in the way. But they come to warn us. They must have an idea as to what he is planning. He must have left a clue or two before fleeing the mafia."

"So, you telling they lied? What a surprise."

"They are hiding the whole truth."

_Same difference to me._ She didn't say anything to that. This was exactly why she avoided gifted individuals despite being one herself. Especially in Yokohama, meddling with such business meant being involved with organization like Port Mafia, The Armed Detective Agency and god knows what or who else. She kept her profile low, so very low, and look where it got her. Tricked by a teenager and a weirdo.

"Why did they give me you?" she asked begrudgingly. She was likely addressing the god himself with this question. Dazai offered himself up as her partner on this case, however, it seemed there weren't any other options available. He was the only who was immune to her ability, which preserved ADA's secrets. The only thing that worried Fukuzawa was the fact that neither had a combat-oriented ability. To that Dazai assured that combat wasn't expected any time soon. And when it is, he'd borrow Atsushi or Kunikida.

Dazai smiled at her question, "Trust is a two-way street, Saskia-chan."

"Don't call me that," she hissed. _Stop provoking me._ But he was the lesser problem, wasn't he? She should stop reacting to his provocations too. Her fingered drummed on the table. It was only the two of them here because she didn't feel comfortable being in the office of the Agency. It's not that everyone started to act weird around her, knowing about her ability, quite the opposite. They were acting very unbothered by her. It was she who was bothered. It was strange to be surrounded by ability users. It was strange to watch Atsushi and Tanizaki cleaning up the mess in the office. They all seemed perfectly normal people. Except they weren't. And she wasn't. And this should be acknowledged, shouldn't it? The other part was that Dazai didn't want to stay in the office either. He justified it by hunger and needing her full attention, which she couldn't give in the office, filled with people who were actively working. In reality, she overheard the real reason. Dazai Osamu wasn't made for office paperwork and would run away at any possible opportunity. Also, she knew that from the start: he wanted to continue figuring her out. Social places are created for those reasons. But she didn't argue against that. Saskia too wanted to figure him out, however unwilling she was to go to an open public place. Plus, she needed to process the mess she got dragged into. She saw too much today. First was the bomb thing. The other was Dazai asking the waitress to commit double suicide with him. What the fuck was that? But it was one of the few places open at this hour and with a decent menu. But she didn't appreciate the whispers she could hear from all around. New couples looking for a way to find a way to one another. Timed couples looking for a way to reignite the spark. Friends looking out for each other's mental state. Or friends, looking for a way to put the other one down. It's a weekend evening, what else could people be doing but getting together? The only person she pitied right now was the waitress. The only one who was required to lie by the job description. Saskia had to focus on being hungry and wanting a drink to tolerate the whispers.

"What was the mark I missed during my test?" she asked instead, sipping her coffee. It was bringing some relief to the dull pain in her head.

"Changed your mind?" Dazai raised a brow.

"Just curious."

"Willingness to sacrifice yourself for others."

"You passed?" she asked, offended. She wouldn't call herself a sacrificing person. After all, she was going to many lengths to spare herself the pain every day. Nonetheless, how could he pass with flying colours? The only way she saw him passing the test is him trying to commit suicide and accidentally sacrifice himself for others. And then there was the manipulation part. She held very little doubt that Tanizaki was the one behind everything. The kid was smart but not wicked smart.

"How did you do it?" Blok asked, curiously.

"Hm?"

"How could you push Tanizaki so far?"

"Oh, that," he smiled innocently, "was just a part of the card game."

"And then there was the scene at the coffee shop..."

The dark-haired man grinned complacently. He looked outside. It was already dark. Saskia yawned.

"You know," Dazai said with a wicked grin on his face, "you should be grateful. I am, after all, your opportunity of a lifetime."

"You are delusional," she huffed, looking at her food. Ordered too much for her to finish.

"No," the man said. He reached across the table to touch her hand and get her attention, "Think about it. I could be your only chance to learn how to do this."

"Do what?" she asked, unimpressed by his tricks. And he certainly did not have to touch her. But she didn't feel as agitated as she could have. Something about his touch was different. Something strangely elating.

"I'm available," said the guy at the neighboring table. Tsk. The waitress politely smiled at him, backing away, from the table, thanking him and promising to be soon with their order. The guy was slightly buzzed. Blok touched her forehead in annoyance. Just as the pain subsided some asshole had to lie about his relationship status. When she turned her attention back to her partner, the man looked suddenly amused. She didn't want to ask him about it.

"What do you think I need to learn to do, again?" the woman asked, slightly dazed by the lie and audacity of that man.

"Build trust," Dazai fixed her a candid smile.

* * *

"Did you…seduce the waitress?" At least if he lies, she'll never know. And she wouldn't mind not knowing the full truth in this scenario. Dazai held out a crimson scarf for her when they stepped out of the car. He gave directions, she didn't see a reason to object. If that was to drive the case further, she would gladly drive wherever. The sooner this was over, the better.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Saskia-chan," he spoke childishly. The way he chose to address her made her want to claw at his eyes and possibly break his nose. The order doesn't matter.

"How did she get home?" Saskia asked. Not that she cared that much about the waitress, but the scarf served a purpose in such weather.

"I gave her money to cover a cab," he replied. "Possibly a new scarf."

"Smart."

A waitress working so late at night couldn't be living far away from her place of work. Neither would she be buying expensive scarfs and give them away to some creep.

"Wanna tell me why I have to wear this atrocity?" she asked, lifting the scarf and letting it unfold. She could only touch it with two fingers. Horrid thing, truth be told, and is also cheaply made. The material was paper-like against the skin.

"It's meant to capture attention, Saskia-chan," Osamu offered her his best innocent smile. He then grabbed the scarf she held out and wrapped it around her, making sure it hid her hair and half of her face.

"You won't be recognized this way," he explained as he was finishing up.

"Recognized by whom?" she asked just as confused as before. "And in this crimson?"

"Bold colours will make your features forgettable," he answered, "in case you are seen. And I can't very well dress you in black. Now that would be suspicious."

"Dazai," she warned, "where are you taking me?"

* * *

"You bloody didn't," she said in disbelief. Anyone in Yokohama who cared enough for their life knew that there were places you don't go unless in search of painful death. This was the territory of Port Mafia. Most dangerous criminal organization in Yokohama. And probably now the only one. The guys were very competitive and ruthless in their methods.

"We are here to talk," he answered nonchalantly. What is this, a walk in the park? He was affiliated with the Armed Detective Agency and this was Mafia's territory. Those two organizations famously did not get along all that well. For goodness's sake, she was a cop!

"You decided to talk to Port Mafia?" she asked, lowering her head and shifting the scarf further down her face. No matter what, here she would feel exposed.

"Maybe," he gave an unbothered shrug. "I can tell that the Mafia didn't tell us everything. But I couldn't just come in right after they came to us. I needed some time to," he abruptly stopped himself from finishing the sentence. After a heavy but brief pause, he added, "to get you."

"Why would they tell anything now?" Saskia asked. She noticed the suspicious pause in his speech. The way he thoughtfully put his answers. The bastard wasn't telling her everything. And she won't know what.

"I don't expect them to, but I will know if they lie," Dazai spoke mischievously. He turned his head just enough for her to see a bastardly smirk on his face. She should punch him. Saskia felt like she had all the rights to punch him. And she will. Just not here and not now. It didn't take long for someone to start running at them. Just one person.

"Bastaaaard!" the man's voice shouted.

"I see someone recognized you," Saskia commented smugly. Yet she felt that pang of terror. She shouldn't be here.

"That voice… is giving me a headache already," said Dazai. Soon the man was close to them. And he aimed to punch Dazai in the face. The hit didn't land, but Saskia could understand the motive. The man before them was… short. In contrast to Dazai, it was especially noticeable. The second is his orange hair and a black hat on top of it. He wore the signature black coat of the mafia.

"You seek death, vagabond?" the short man asked. Blok lowered her head and stepped behind Osamu to hide herself better.

"Always, Chuuya!" Dazai answered with too much joy. Saskia tensed upon hearing the way they addressed each other. Dazai Osamu sure loved to pull one's leg, she was a victim too. Yet… Chuuya, then? Familiar bond?

"Get out of here before the boss hears about it," the short one growled.

"But why, Chuuya," Osamu replied, grinning. "I'm exactly here for him."

"Who's she?" Chuuya asked, pointing at her. Saskia stepped behind Dazai a bit more. There's one thing she couldn't hide from mafia – gender.

"My suicide partner!" came the reply from the taller man. In a normal situation, Blok would facepalm upon such a reply, but all things considered, this was a surprisingly believable answer. She saw the scene in the café, the confusion on the waitress's face. The question in her eyes Saskia couldn't answer, she just lowered her head, hid her face behind her hand, gesturing with the other that she had no clue what was happening. Saskia saw Osamu stepping to the left to hide her further from the prying eyes as Chuuya stepped to his right to get a glimpse.

"You do know you might not leave if you go inside?" the mafioso asked, grinning.

"Then would you answer my questions, Chuuya?" the other man spoke very casually. "It's a yes or no question."

"What is it?"

"Did the ability user leave any clues as to what he's planning on doing next?" Dazai asked nicely.

Chuuya huffed, "Nothing escapes you, vagabond. Bu the answer is no."

Saskia coughed. This was a lie.

"Is she okay?" Chuuya asked cautiously. She heard him making a step. Saskia lowered her head even more. It wasn't a moonlit night but at this distance, anyone would have a chance at spotting her features.

"Just the chill," answered Dazai. "But he left something behind, did he not?"

"Yes, he did."

"What was that?"

"Yes or no question, Dazai," the shorter man mocked.

"What information did he leave with, Chuuya?" Dazai's tone changes. From the sweet, friendly one to a menacing, warning. It surprised only her. The redhaired man was absolutely unbothered by the tone or the radical change in the attitude. _This boldness of his will get us killed. _

"Back off, suicidal maniac," the mafia man spoke with a warning.

"Calm down, gentlemen," another voice spoke. Saskia didn't dare to lift her head but this sure was someone else. Older judging by the sound of his voice. And his step was heavy, confident.

"Our interests align once more, Dazai," the new coming man spoke. "It's good to see you."

_Tsk._ Saskia touched her temple instinctively. Sharp pain shooting through her brain. Her heart started to beat faster. It was pain. And it was fear. They all knew each other, she had no doubts about it, and she should be here. Not with him, not _alone _with _him._

"Having troubles, Mori-san?" Dazai taunted.

"None at all," the man replied monotonically.

_Tsk. How much do you think the mafia would want someone with my ability?_ She couldn't lift her head, wouldn't dare to. All she could do is listen to their conversation, noting the tone and words used. And the lies, the lies will always be exposed if she could hear them. _And if it's not coming from Dazai._

"But if you are willing to take on the task, then you can have it," Mori continued. "Save our resources."

"Did someone steal something from the Mafia, Mori?"

"No, Dazai. Where do you get such ideas?"

_Tsk._

"What is wrong with you?" angrily asked Chuuya, reaching for her. Luckily, her partner was fast enough to catch him before he could do anything. Before he could expose her to them.

"A-ta-ta," crooned Osamu, "no touching."

The voice identified by Dazai as Mori spoke again, "Who is this young lady?"

"My double suicide."

"We should talk in private then."

"No, she stays with me," stated Osamu. "God only knows what you will do to her. Especially this pervert."

"Lying bastard!" Chuuya yelled in fury.

"So, what happened, Mori?" questioned Dazai once more.

"A man infiltrated our organization under a stolen identity. And once we started to suspect him, he disappeared."

For once, the man was telling the truth. It didn't negate the chills she was having just by being here, standing on the soil of Port Mafia in a goddamn crimson scarf.

"Did he now?" Dazai taunted.

"I've already told Fukuzawa everything," Mori dismissively reminded.

_Tsk._

"Whose identity he assumed?"

The answer didn't come right away. Saskia could feel the thick and heavy silence between them. If only she dared to lift her head, she could witness what was happening between the two men. But all she knew is that it was silent. And Dazai was standing close to her, protecting, hiding her.

"He was known here as Mister Krik." Mori answered thoughtfully. "An international agent of sorts." Foreigner, Saskia noted. If someone assumed the identity of a foreigner, it would conceal the fact they didn't belong here either. That shapeshifter must be coming from outside of Japan.

"What do you know about the ability user?" Dazai asked again. "There is something you haven't told us."

"Would you like to come inside and talk then?" Mori asked, tilting his head.

Dazai turned around and waved the goodbye, "Thanks, but no thanks!"

Saskia followed him carefully to avoid Chuuya's spying eyes. He was too interested in her identity. She didn't like it. They walked a few meters; the end of Mafia's territory could be seen from here. But then…She heard it, she felt it. The landing of something right beside her. She turned to look at it on instinct. And before Dazai could stop him, Chuuya lifted her hastily disguise.

"Ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Chuuya," Dazai seethed.

"A secret for a secret," he proudly spoke. "I know who she is. In exchange, I'll tell you something Mori didn't."

"What is it?"

"The man we are looking for stole profiles from our database."

"What database?" Saskia asked. What's the point of hiding now? Chuuya saw her face, she's a detective and on occasion can be caught by the camera of some crime reporter. She's doomed if he wishes so anyway.

"Suspected gifted in Yokohama," the mafioso replied, crossing his arms. The blue eyes narrowed at her. Damn, she could tell what this stare was. He was trying to remember her face. She put the scarf on her head and turned away from him.

"You can get out of here," Dazai commanded calmly.

"Wha—"

"Not asking," he looked at her over the shoulder. Those eyes… She had never experienced such a stare. And she had seen some wicked people out there. It was empty, derived of emotion, colder than any murderer she'd ever seen. Psychopathic, she'd call it. She knew right there and then one very important thing: Dazai Osamu is morally sordid and potentially even dangerous. He switched faces and talked to the mafia in a very particular way. They were familiar, too close for members of rivalry organizations with opposite morals. She flipped him off and started to walk away. She was in a terrible, terrible mess.

* * *

She couldn't believe she waited for him to return. _Like a dog._ Dazai was coming back, his silhouette easily recognizable. Tall and lean figure with his hands in pockets. And that coat floating behind him like a cape. As he came close, she noticed that brief look in his eyes. A bit absent and a bit concerned at the same time. And dark, oh, so dark. Grim even. What news could it be?

"What did he say?" Blok asked, more concerned with each passing second. The man evened his gaze with hers. And it was gone, that look on his face vanished in a fleeting moment. He pulled the door of her car open and sighed.

"There's a mole in the police force," he answered gravely.

"And you know this how?" she asked, opening the driver's door. With both inside and their doors closed, Dazai finally gave an answer. Saskia was mortified. Her head fell on the wheel, hands tightly gripping it. Goddamn it.

"Why are you so concerned?" she asked, head still on the wheel.

"I'm not concerned," he answered simply, "just disappointed. The Mafia stooped so low as to infiltrate the police."

Saskia raised her head to look at the man, "They are mafia," she retorted as a matter-of-factly. I would be surprised if they didn't. They must be looking for the gifted. A question immediately popped up in her head. Was she in the database? Could the mole suspect that her "sixth sense" is not at all a gut feeling but a very specific skill? _I can't tell if he lies_. There are many ways people give out the signs of lying. Nervousness, avoiding eye contact, jumpy legs or sweaty palms. Some can lie with a straight face with only one particular tick turning them in. She had no clue how Dazai lies.

The man didn't say anything to her after. His eyes were looking somewhere else, somewhere beyond this plane of existence, somewhere where her gaze couldn't follow. Is this his thinking face?

In the car, Saskia couldn't stop rubbing her temple. Some people told small lies and caused very little pain. Some people told small lies and cause a lot of pain. She could never understand the connection between the severity of the lie and the pain it caused. Maybe it was the intention behind it or the one who was behind the lying. Maybe many variables influenced the severity of pain. However, maybe there wasn't any connection at all. But what she was doing didn't go unnoticed.

"Stop it," the man said. "Your hands should be on the steering wheel."

"It's dead of the night," she huffed. "And what are you afraid of, suicidal maniac?"

"I'm afraid you'll die before I get any use out of you."

"Charming."

"Headache?"

"Uh-huh."

He didn't say anything else. Instead, he reached out to touch the woman's shoulder. He poked her with a finger and, yet, the headache disappeared.

"Huh?" she couldn't even speak. She couldn't believe it even. His ability could take her pain away. The nullifier. The man just nonchalantly shrugged. That's what happened at the café. That's why she didn't mind his touch as much as she should have. That irritating pain was eased but she didn't notice it right away because soon it crept back inside her skull.

"This is your only redeeming quality," she huffed with a hint of amusement. How ironic is that the man she disliked so much would, the one she couldn't sense, would be such a relief at the same time? Just her luck.

* * *

Author's notes: Remember, I want to have fun while doing this too. Hope you enjoyed this.


	7. Building trust

Dazai Osamu texted her this afternoon asking about the Takara Koharu case. It, of course, got out to the public that a woman's body was found in an expensive part of town, buried in the yard of one of the sale houses. That will surely delay the sale of the house, but it also raised many questions. And the public wasn't happy about the lack of investigation going on. It was hard for the mass to grasp that everyone in the homicide department knew that a crime possibly took place but there was no evidence, witnesses or suspects, rendering all common sense useless. No actus reus. But now that the detective agency was asking about it, it must be something. She thought of taking her car and drive to the office as fast as she legally could. But considering the time of day, taking the train could be more beneficial. Plus, she could grab a drink on the way back. It was going to be murder talk case anyway. Whatever ADA had it must be something.

"What did you find?" Blok asked as soon as she opened the door. Everyone's eyes were on her. Dazai looked least surprised by the sudden and rude appearance. Kunikida, a bit more shocked, along with Atsushi. Edogawa Ranpo looked pleased.

"I won, Dazai," he said, reaching out his hand. The other man gave up the cupcake, muttering something with annoyance. Blok disregarded their strange behaviour and walked in the office, trying to make herself look comfortable enough to be here. In the heat of getting to know what they found she forgot that the agency consisting of more than Dazai and Tanizaki.

"What do you know about the death of Takara Koharu?" Osamu asked, leaning back in his chair. His hands supported the back of his head. A bit too casual for a murder talk, eh?

"What I could find in the files," the woman replied, shrugging dismissively. Husband died by suicide, slit his throat," she spoke, unnerved by the way Dazai's face illuminated. It's strange how he seemed most…sincere. The idea of suicide must fascinate him, no matter how grotesque.

"Really?" he asked. There were stars shimmering in his eyes as if he saw the eternal light. Kunikida smacked his partner on the head, pulling him out of the mesmerizing state he was in. Psychopath.

"Wife found dead just days ago, I'm sure you've heard," Saskia finished.

"We did," Doppo confirmed, rubbing the hand he laid the hit with. "And we have reasons to believe she was the victim of the ability user we are looking for."

The woman didn't know what to say. It would make sense for someone outside of the two victims to be involved in the strange case. There had to be someone else. But that woman made no sense. Married, a stable full-time job, perhaps underpaid, but the husband's salary was plenty to keep up with the house payments. Good credit history, a parking ticket, nothing out of the ordinary. Why them? Because she was at the wrong time at the wrong place?

"Fill me in," Blok said.

Based on what Kunikida and Dazai dug up, Ranpo concluded that Takara Koharu was the first victim of the ability user since he escaped from the mafia. Ranpo was also confident that the ability user was also partially responsible for Hibiki's suicide. And she didn't understand at all why he made such conclusions. However, given the strangeness of the case, it is plausible.

"What makes you think so?" detective Blok inquired. She was going over the printed images from the security cameras. She had seen similar pictures already when she was going through the case file. A woman whose husband killed himself rather gruesomely was spotted in a different part of the city looking very out of sorts. There was a sticking difference between the woman who left her work that evening and the woman who was spotted a day later. Her hair was perfectly styled, she wore feminine business suits with heels. Neat, stylish, feminine. And then she looked nothing like it. Messy, tired, hiding and running. Something must have happened — like her husband's suicide — to make her change so rapidly and dramatically.

"He would be able to tell the difference," Ranpo answered.

"He can perfectly copy the physical appearance," Kunikida added, "that's as much as we know."

"But given his escape, he needed to change skins fast," Ranpo picked up, "without knowing his victim. Choosing a married woman was dangerous and most beneficial at the same time."

"Then it means he killed and buried her," Saskia concluded, "but there were no signs of violence on the body."

"What was the cause of death?" questioned Dazai.

"Undetermined."

"We will stick to Ranpo's theory for now," concluded Doppo.

"So, what do we do?" she asked. This woman was just collateral damage. Saskia rubbed her temples, soothing the pain. No, this was a natural migraine. Tired, angry, too much coffee. A woman died and her husband committed suicide because of one gifted. What the hell happened in that house on the day of Hibiki's death that made him go so far and so violently? Was he forced to end his life? Threatened? Was it staged? No, staging suicide and of such manner would be incredibly hard. Blood spatter, DNA, fingerprints, there must have been something left behind to give them a clue. She didn't find anything in the files that would suggest a staged crime scene.

"We wait," Ranpo answered simply. She wanted to interject. She wanted to speak about how waiting would kill somebody again. But that's what it was. That's what being a cop was. Sometimes the most they could do is wait. And she cannot save everyone. Recognizing the difference was important to not drawn in guilt and self-loathing. She was, after all, the only person responsible for her sanity. Green eyes searched for the reactions of others. Yet only Kunikida displayed any sort of dissatisfaction with the plan.

"What do you think his end game is?" the woman asked Dazai, lifting her head. He gave her a dismissive shrug. In dark green eyes, a spark was lighted. Epiphany. He didn't tell them.

* * *

She could have ratted him out then and there but chose not to. Despite the child-like behaviour, there's one thing she cannot deny about Dazai Osamu. He's clever. He manipulated Junichiro to trick her into coming to the agency's office. He blackmailed her into helping them to find a shapeshifting gifted. Therefore, she would rather have something to hold above his head. Which was even more suspicious. Dazai didn't come across as a man who would allow many things to be held above his head. So, they walked together while exchanging no words. Not in the least her idea. He simply followed her and played it off as if she wasn't purposefully ignoring him.

Someone tugged on her coat. Saskia looked at the nullifier and understood what he wanted from her. She scowled at the idea but complied with taking out her earplugs.

"What?" Blok asked in irritation. The fact they were walking together already annoyed her. She wanted to get some coffee, a scone maybe and peace of mind. But with him here, it wasn't on today's menu.

"It's not very comfortable to communicate with you this way," Dazai said, still pointing at his ear.

"Well, sorry," she sardonically said. The ability Saskia possessed cause her pain every time someone lied. Strangers' confessions overheard on the street brought her nothing bu the pain of the wretched gift. He can take it away, though… No, she wouldn't touch him every now and then that's… uncomfortable and draws attention.

"It is surprising," Osamu says absentmindedly. Blok had no clue what Dazai meant by that but didn't question him.

"Your ability, I mean," his tone was slowly painted with interest, "after I nullify it. You recover pretty fast."

"Outstanding me," her sardonic, acidic tone was surprising even to her. The bitterness, the spite she harboured for her ability… She knew she shouldn't, those feelings won't fix what is wrong, those feelings are damaging. Yet she cannot help but feel them, collect and bury them underneath. The man cocked his head, expression unintelligible. Only something in his eyes, an idea, perhaps. He watched her for a moment and then another. She felt his gaze, she felt she always could feel his eyes on her. Then there was a mischievous smile on his lips. Saskia frowned knowing that it couldn't be good. Osamu, however, felt very proud for coming up with such an idea. He took out his hands from the pocket of his coat and easily tugged at her arm.

"What?" the woman asked impatiently, taking her hands out of the warm pocket.

"This should be good enough." There it was, the shine in his eyes Saskia never cherished. It was a devilish glint, a sparkle of mischief. What's worse is that it suits him — a perfect mask. Or maybe his real face. She detested the look he gave her. Dazai's hand snaked around hers and she tried to pull away. But he forcefully intertwined their fingers, holding her hand in a tight lock. Her eyes widened in shock. But that glimmer was gone from his eyes, just a self-satisfied smirk could be seen on the profile of his face. Psychopath. But he was right. It would work. No pain for her, she could listen to the world outside. Including his annoying voice. And it didn't look suspicious at all. In fact, people would look at them less. Blok could be taken by the kindness of the gesture if only it was coming from somebody else._ Dazai Osamu doesn't do kind. _

"So, what was that romantic outing to the Port Mafia all about?" Blok asked in a calm voice. "You didn't tell your colleagues about it."

"There isn't much to tell," he answered simply.

"The database of suspected gifted in Yokohama," she recalled the only thing she heard. The red-haired man said it right before Dazai told her to leave. And she obliged. She wouldn't dare not to in that situation if she was brave enough to admit it. That look in Dazai's eyes was nothing short of dark intent.

"You think he wants to hide as another gifted?" the woman continued.

"I doubt it," Osamu shook his head, "it would be too obvious for the mafia. They will be watching them — the profiles he stole — hoping to catch him again. However, he might be aiming to use their abilities for his benefit, assume someone they know, someone close to them."

"That's why you didn't say anything," Blok agreed. "That would create some tensions between Port Mafia and your agency."

"Ranpo expects our target to assume the identity of a public service worker."

"Changing topics, I see. Alright then, keep your secrets."

Dazai Osamu walked her home, gave her a childish, innocent smile and said his goodbye. And at that moment as he was waving at her, smiling widely and possibly even genuinely, Saskia wanted to believe that this what he was like. This tall man wearing a coat with a mop of dark hair was cheery and clever and good. And for a moment, just before she looked at him for the last time, she did. Dazai Osamu, standing meters away from her, waving her goodbye and giving her a smile was real. The sun was lost in his dark hair. The wind picked up his coat. Yes, the picture is too ideal to be real, isn't it? A romantic painted it to make an onlooker believe in its beauty and truthfulness.

* * *

"I knew she would be your type," Dazai said, coming close to the shorter man. Chuuya wasn't surprised by his appearance. He saw him coming from here. A rooftop of another building with a perfect opportunity to observe the life inside the apartment of the building in front. Perfect view and not too obvious. Nakahara lowered his binoculars.

"I'm not happy to see you, Dazai," he spat.

"Of course," the other answered as a matter-of-factly. "Found anything interesting?"

"She lives a boring life, binges TV shows, doesn't talk for more than 2 minutes on her phone," he said and turned his face to look at the man he knew so well. "And she is with you."

"Good observation skills, Chuuya," Osamu mocked.

"She is gifted then. Our informant marked her as having some sort of premonition as her gift," the red-haired man stated. He cocked his head a bit up, looking at his ex-partner, down and up. Osamu's face was neutral, betraying nothing. That what Cuuya thought he was on the inside: nothingness.

"You know what her ability is and you won't tell me," Nakahara simply stated. There would be no reason for him to give out that information now. Or later, for that matter. Dazai deemed Saskia's skill a tad too-good-to-be-true for the mafia. A woman who could tell when someone lied, well, that was asking for trouble. Mafia is very particular about the way they get information, but who could ever refuse an opportunity to make their life easier?

"Of course," Dazai nodded and smiled in agreement.

"You were holding hands, I saw," Chuuya continued. "Which means, you were nullifying her ability," a smile grew on his face. "But a combat-oriented ability would be much harder to hide from the police."

Chuuya didn't continue talking, noticing how dark Dazai's eyes turned. He had seen that look before. He knew this darkness in his eyes too well. Those dark brown eyes were the same as on that day Dazai Osamu revealed what he was. A warped human being capable of many things Chuuya personally looked down upon. That day he swore to one crush that deal-making demon. He still holds on to that promise. And yet here he was, Dazai Osamu, in the flash, somewhat alive, somewhat unharmed.

"Where was your wit in the past?" Dazai solemnly asked. And while his voice was calm, it held such power. And a certain sense of tenebrosity.

"I'd push you off this roof to your death, but you would like it, wouldn't you?" he spit. Dazai hummed, entertained by his ex-partner's behaviour as always. It's too easy to pull on his strings.

"There's no way I wouldn't watch her myself after seeing her with you," Chuuya boiled with anger.

"Jealous?" he asked, lifting his brows.

"How do you put it? I don't have such interest in men? Exactly. But you are interested in her ability. And so are we."

"I'll be seeing you then, Chuuya," Osamu said, turning around to walk away. He knew he had an upper hand in the situation. For one, he was actually closer to Saskia than Chuuya and that will remain this way. And second, he knew people, important people, knowledgeable and resourceful people. People working for the government. His sources of information were somewhat superior.


	8. How many?

The homicide department was buzzing. A detective was coming back after spending some time in the hospital. Matsukata Satoru had returned to his duty when the storm around — technically his — controversial case had subsided. The homicide detectives were having a brief but cheerful welcoming party where the most frequent question was regarding Matsukata's stitches. Blok walked in on the part of the conversation, expecting something like that.

"How many?" Ueda Hiroto asked, slightly nudging his colleague on the shoulder.

"It wasn't anything too bad," Matsukata answered, waving it off. She picked up the pastry from the shared box of different sweets as a part of the welcoming party.

"Wucky wou," she said, chewing. Upon hearing her voice, the two men turned around to her. Ueda told her to chew before talking, they can barely understand her. But Satoru just looked at her, strangely intently.

"Lucky you," she said again, "got to miss out on all the PR fun we were having."

Neither of the men commented on that. Hiroto looked least pleased with the topic of the discussion. He was the one officially picking up the case when Matsukata was incapacitated. Detective Blok's name was second.

"He's got stitches now," Ueda changed topics, "and won't tell me how many."

"I won't tell you now that's there's a woman here," the other man bashfully replied. Saskia raised her hands, holding the folder in her right, to signify giving in to the situation.

"I just came to see you and give you files back," she defended herself, placing the files on the table. The man nodded and offered a smile. Saskia barely reciprocated.

"Blok!" the captain called. That guy again. Saskia reluctantly walked out, holding a grudge against her superior. Come on, she'd just caught up with her done with her workload. He couldn't possibly be giving her more. She walked into the office and closed the door behind her. The chief was sitting behind his desk with papers all over it.

"You called," Saskia stated simply, crossing her arms. She was in no mood to sit down and have a chat.

"You know about Matsukata," the man said, not bothering to look at her. He was too focused on one particular document in his hand.

"A little," she confirmed.

"He needs a partner to help out," he continued, "just in case. He is after surgery after all."

"If he can't do his job, let him recover at home," Blok protested. Another partner in crime is not something she welcomed. She was fed up with Dazai enough. Another person's issues on top of hers and she felt she would break.

"He's out of his sick days. He recognized his temporary incapability and asked for help," the captain explained. "Why shouldn't I assign you to him? You are capable if not very sociable. And just got a case on your hands. You should use some help too."

Saskia groaned. _When it rains, it pours. Misfortune never come alone._ It wasn't a matter of her agreeing to this. Everything was written in stone already, she was just getting informed. Her blood boiled in anger. Yes, another nuisance, now at her actual work. But she cannot simply refuse, this was her superior talking. Why is that everyone had something to hold above her head, some sense of superiority over her.

"Fine," she begrudgingly complied. It was only temporary. And she had no saying.

"For that, however, I need a tiny little favour," Saskia said, putting her hands behind her back. She can't escape it, might as well try and turn it to her advantage even if a little.

"If asked, I will deny any involvement or knowledge of this," the man stated before walking away. Saskia grinned. Now, she needs a technician or something…

* * *

When she stepped out of the building, she knew what she would be getting herself into.

"Hello," spoke the familiar voice. Blok looked at the direction of the voice to see the man in the sand-coloured coat. She knew he'd be here, but he shouldn't be here, though. For one damn good reason is that she didn't want to be seen with him. She was getting agitated by his frivolous behaviour. He had no right to mess with her life so carelessly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, angered. "You could have given a call, you know."

He smiled at her. That smile was empty. Yes, that's how she could describe this smile. No maliciousness behind it but neither was there any amiability. It's derived of the emotions people attach to their expressions. As if he knew that in this situation he soulld smile and so he did.

"Come," he said, turning around. Saskia had little choice but to follow him. In fact, she caught up with him, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him to her. The physical contact relieved her of the pain she'd been carrying with her a good portion of the day. But she'll thank him later. Maybe. They needed to get out of here as soon as possible. No one needs to see her with him. Dazai seemed to understand her hurriedness, catching up, offering no resistance. All that with no need for words. They got into the car and as far as Saskia could guess, no one noticed her getting into the car with a man. She drove away as fast as she legally was allowed to get away from the station.

"Take the next turn," he said.

"What you've been up to?" she asked, referring to the whole agency.

"Meeting old friends, pulling some favours."

It's not that he lied. She couldn't sense him anyway. But his answer was ambiguous enough to understand there was some truth to it. Hiding the whole truth, he called it. Which means, he offered her some truth then, right? Truth that he won't share further no matter how much she would press for it.

* * *

Is this what her life coming down to? Exchanging one office for another? At least the first office she chose. This was forced on her. It was uncomfortable here. Tanizaki wasn't here, which was reasonable considering the day of the week, but it meant she knew no one else. Well, maybe except for Dazai who was considered her partner on this case. Nonetheless, she spent a day with the guy. And the night she spent with him was a terrible-very-bad-no-good-experience. Everyone was at peace with their assigned tasks. And by everyone meaning Kunikida. He was the only one who was doing any real work. Dazai was trying to lure Atsushi into writing his report. No one else was present here. Since this wasn't about the case, she couldn't quite comprehend why she was called to come in. To watch and listen to them? Oh god….

"Care to tell me why I am here?" the woman asked, looking at the watch. It has been precisely 42 minutes since they arrived here. All she had done was witnessing Dazai's strange antics and Kunikida's annoyed face. Their arguments were hilarious to watch but it didn't negate the fact she didn't want to be here. She was supposed to help solve the case, catch a dangerous ability user. Nothing more, nothing less. They didn't have to become friends.

"Oh?" Dazai turned to look at her. "To get dinner with us, of course." His answer came out to be so simple-minded. That is precisely why she didn't believe it.

"Thanks, but no, thanks?" Blok retorted. She wasn't planning on having drinks with these people. Least of all Dazai Osamu. The man was all shades of grey to her. And to simply put it, she didn't give a shit about bonding with him or any other people from this office. This very man blackmailed her into helping them. He showed her face to a mafia member.

"Aw, come on, Saskia-chan," the man spoke in his childish manner, "we are partners —"

"Temporarily. And let me remind you that you threa—"

"It's bonding time!" declared Dazai, standing up. "Kunikida, come on!"

"You didn't finish your report," the blonde man firmly reminded.

"But we can't make a woman wait!"

"I'd say she isn't thrilled by the idea of spending time in our company. You should have waited for Yosano to be able to join."

To everyone's surprise, the next question made two men very curious about the answer.

"Blok-sama," Atsushi spoke sheepishly, "would you be my guest, please? Whatever you want to have will be on me."

_Gods, the kid doesn't lie_. Saskia glanced at Kunikida, who looked intrigued by Atsushi's offer more than her answer. Nonetheless, he spared her an expectant glance. Then her eyes traveled past the teenager and towards Dazai. He wore a knowing and almost benign smile. Saskia couldn't refuse Junichiro, what would make her able to refuse Atsushi? Soft spots are kinda like that: an attenuated spot that makes one easy to bend to another's will. The woman sighed loudly, feeling her resolve breaking more and more each second.

"Alright, kid. I'll come. But you don't have to treat me."

* * *

And that what her life came to be. Sitting in a café with three men she barely knew. That was not part of the contract. But she had to admit, it was nice and cozy here. With some great choices of food. Ah, and she was indeed hungry. Only by staring at the menu did she remembered that her last meal was almost eight hours ago. Atsushi again asked if she would allow him to treat her. Saskia still denied. The kid was no older than Junichiro. And she probably should stop thinking about them as kids. The difference between them isn't great. He is not a legal adult, though. That was her justification.

"Perhaps you should treat her, Dazai, since you were the one who invited her," Kunikida chimed in. He never looked up from the menu, though, Saskia could tell his eyes weren't reading anymore. Osamu placed his elbow on the table, head resting on his closed palm. And a stupid —no, really, there was no other word for it — stupid smile on his face.

"Then why won't you, Kunikida? Aren't you a gentleman?" Dazai asked. Saskia should have guessed that taunting others would be Dazai's hobby.

"Noone's treating me, thanks," Blok put an end to the discussion with a slap on the table.

"So, Saskia-san," Atsushi asked, "you work as a police officer?"

"I'm a homicide detective," she answered.

"Oh, right, Tanizaki did tell," the boy rubbed the back of his neck in awkwardness.

Small talk? Saskia didn't like small talk. How many times did she hear innocent and polite lies that gave her minor pains? The I-am-good and everything-is-great were thrown into her face as if she couldn't tell. She could. Always. It was both frustrating and horrifying to realize that people felt the need to lie about those things too.

"And you, Atsushi? How come you become a part of this detective agency?" the woman questioned.

"Um, Dazai-san recruited me," he answered unsurely, "because of my ability."

"Oh?"

"Atsushi," Dazai eagerly interrupted, "but that's not the only reason I decided to recruit you."

"Not the only reason?" Saskia asked.

"Atsushi wants to help people," Osamu answered, placing his hand on her shoulder. She didn't know whether to be grateful for the fact that is was he who sat next to her. After all, he was the only person she spent some time with and was more familiar. Or to hate it because Dazai was _— _for a lack of a better expression _—_ hot-and-cold. Saskia remembered that death glare he gave her. But she also saw that smile on his face when Atsushi asked her to join them.

"Thanks to Dazai-san I was able to join the agency and I didn't have much at the time. I was starving," Nakajima gave a smile. "And I am very grateful."

"Now I remember you," she hummed, taking in the young man's features, "I saw you in a newspaper."

Saskia took a moment to think about what to say next. The young man before her was indeed the one from the newspaper. It's been some time, but Atsushi was the one whose picture was framing the recent story. A massive aircraft was heading to Yokohama wand would likely crash in the heart of the city if not for… And then there was that outbreak. The mass madness, the mutiny that unfolded and claimed the lives of many. Is this what she was going to be involved in? It was rarely just a matter of one individual case, was it? Whatever came to ADA's attention would spread like a plague. This was an opportunity to open their mouths.

"Tell me more, Atsushi," Saskia asked, reciprocating a smile.

* * *

She eyed Dazai, who was too involved with his drink right now. The men were chatting, mostly reminiscing of their shared past. And Kunikida got annoyed more than once already because Dazai won't stop bringing up something embarrassing. Saskia enjoyed hearing some very embarrassing lines Kunikida apparently said under the curse. So cheesy, so embarrassing. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't joined in on the fun.

"I'll remind you, Dazai, you were the one who hosted her," the blond man huffed in annoyance. Yet his face was dusted with an intense pink blush.

"I knew you would misunderstand," the dark-haired man playfully retorted, "that's why I said it that way."

Kunikida pushed forward, leaning over the table a little, trying to reach Dazai. The other man pushed himself as much into a chair as possible, trying to avoid the prying arms of the man he annoyed on purpose. The woman gave Atsushi a questioning look. The sigh answered it all.

This man… Dazai Osamu… is something else. Saskia couldn't place her finger on him. Dazai Osamu was something she didn't expect him to be. Admired by Atsushi. Even respected by Kunikida, however, the latter would hide the fact very thoroughly. Yet Kunikida didn't dump Dazai's ass, so it must mean something. Dazai saved Atsushi's skin quiet literally. And Kunikida was the one who approved Dazai's entrance exam. So, the man had to be capable of kindness and self-sacrifice? Or was it an elaborate game? And yet looking at him, she could only think of those cold brown eyes, staring at her, telling her to follow his command. And the devilish smirks she had noticed. Not to mention his involvement with mafia. He was more than familiar with the short redhaired man and someone named Mori...

"Really? Ideal woman? You weren't kidding," Saskia chirped. Her attention was captured by the current topic of discussion. And it made her disapprovingly shake her head, "How many was it, again?"

"Fifty-eight!" Dazai cheerily replied. It seemed this fact amused just as greatly as it amused her. Saskia dramatically placed her hand on her eyes, sighing deeply and loudly. The ideal woman who met all fifty-eight of Kunikida Doppo's requirements. _About that, Kunikida…_

"Would you like to take a look, Saskia-chan?" Dazai asked. Atsushi's eyes widened in shock. Kunikida abruptly stopped hi actions, watching the pair of them, surprised by the honorific. Saskia sighed in annoyance. She gave him no permission to call her this way. She removed her hand, ending the theatrics. She hoped the message of "what you want doesn't exist" got across to Kunikida. Whatever his requirements were fifty-eight is not a number to go about it.

"God forbid," the woman replied, "the woman is incredibly unrealistic anyway."

"How could you know?" Kunikida asked, badly masking his offense. He crossed his arms in defense, eyes watching her intently.

"You are a man," she replied simply, shrugging his intense gaze away.

"Oh-la-la," was all that Dazai let out. He looked intrigued for a moment and almost excited as if something was about to unfold. There was that mischievous glint in his eyes again. But this time it didn't make her feel as it did before. This look on his face was playful and not malicious. As if his two partners would get into a heated argument or a battle of wits. But nothing happened. The two of them just shared a look for a few seconds and everything died down.

"You aren't wrong, Saskia-chan," he said in a whisper. He whispered, sure, but no quiet enough for the two men on the other side of the table to ignore. Kunikida Doppo was positively starting to boil on the inside. Like a teapot with a whistle, you could hear the faint sound sipping in, but it's not done just yet. A few more seconds were needed for the water to start boiling.

"Wanna take another guess?" Dazai Osamu would not give up so easily. "Each time you guess earns you a free drink from me."

Saskia measured the man. He couldn't be serious right now, could he? He was begging her to take a dig at his partner? Is this bonding? However, Doppo's feelings out of the way, and this was an opportunity.

"How about for each guess you owe me an honest and full answer?" she asked. And there it was. A more familiar glint in those dark eyes. She had seen it before, during the staged bombing. In a fleeting second, she saw that spark in his dark eyes. Like a lighter, flickering in the dark, unable to start a fire. If he says no or questions this, it would imply that he had been lying about something to her already.

"So be it," he agreed, a bit too easily, perhaps. "You have my word."

Atsushi smiled at them, watching the interaction taking a warmer, friendlier turn. It wasn't the most genuine turn, however, right now this was all he could hope for. Kunikida wasn't the least bit amused by being the scapegoat in their games and bets. He huffed, crossing his arms.

"The ideal woman is pretty, like, above-average pretty. But not vain," Saskia started to count on her fingers. "Polite, well-spoken with no bad habits like smoking and nail-biting. Very feminine. And she is smart. But not smart enough to see how much of a disadvantage the marriage would be."

"Why would our marriage be a disadvantage?" the blond man asked, clearly offended. His crossed arms fell apart, mouth agape. That must have hurt.

"Your job," she said, "is dangerous and could leave her a widow early in life. It also offers questionable benefits. She'd better be in the known of the ability users or it could become a problem. People aren't kin on being so close to the unknown. Lastly," she offered a short pause, "is your hair. Very questionable. So, I do hope you are filthy rich, Kunikida."

"Nu-uh," answered Osamu. Blok looked at the blond man again. He looked very stoic for a man whose taste in women was discussed so frivolously. It's not that Kunikida Doppo would be deemed unattractive, he wasn't an idiot either. But whatever woman came to know about the list, well, probably wouldn't hang around for long.

"I'll give a deal, Kunkida," Saskia started, intriguing the man addressed. "When we are both old and unmarried, I can marry you," she spoke in a very relaxed manner, "then it will just turn into a game of who will die first to inherit whatever little we acquired through our miserable lives."

Kunikida Doppo, detective of the Armed Agency, turned beet red. And there it was, the whistle of the teapot. Dazai started to laugh maniacally while Atsushi barely contained his giggle. Kunikida Doppo, an idealist, couldn't say or do anything in the face of the situation. Except for getting pissed at the laughing Dazai.

"What are you laughing at, you waste of bandages?!" The blond man reached his boiling temperature. And the familiar commotion started again. Kunikida was trying to cause as much physical suffering to Dazai as Dazai caused him in embarrassment. Atsushi leaned closer to Saskia, whispering if she meant what she said. The other two men didn't pay attention to their whispers.

"No, I have a better chance of getting married still," she replied in a whisper. It took another few minutes for the two partners to calm down. Well, Kunikida needed to collect his cool and Dazai needed to stop laughing. And he did, abruptly so.

"How many?" asked Dazai, looking at his fingers, lost in the count.


	9. A question of trust

Fukuzawa offered her the letter which was obviously opened beforehand. Saskia skimped the whole letter considering how many words were in it. But she did notice the keywords. 'Armed Detective Agency', 'to meet', 'the hunted ability user' and her own name.

"Who did you tell?" she asked, seething with rage. She was no longer obligated to hold on to their agreement if it got out that she was gifted.

"No one told anyone," Dazai interfered.

"Whoever this person is, they called me a member of this agency," Blok protested.

"It's not that hard considering you've been coming to the office a few times already. They must assume it more than they know it."

"You won't go all alone," Fukuzawa assured. "Your ability is not for combat and whoever our mailer is."

"I am in no way equipped for whatever is going to be happening there," she resisted. The idea seemed ridiculous to her. There's also the fact that whoever wrote the letter knew her name. Someone outside knew her name. This is a mess.

"I don't think you will have options," Dazai chimed in again. "They are calling you to come. I don't think you will be given many options."

"Dazai, Atsushi, and Kunikida will be nearby," the president assured her. Saskia looked at Dazai who grinned and waved at her. Yeah, she wouldn't trust him with a microwave, forget about trusting her life into his hands.

"Can I exchange Dazai for someone else?" she asked without a hint of humor.

"I'm afraid not."

* * *

"Detective Blok," she said, offering her ID. Matsukata simply offered his ID without saying a word. Saskia put a hand to her mouth as she watched the coroners put the body in the bag. The poor girl suffered a lot even after death.

"I thought you'd be used to death," Matsukata commented, taking a look around the scene once more. Detective Blok snickered.

"I don't know if I want to be used to death if I'm honest."

Death didn't shake her to the core. But she could not say she was used to witnessing it. Being close to death so much sometimes it made her wish to be used to it. To not be moved by the victim's bodies, the injustice and the violence people are capable of. It's a part of the job after all. And yet, she never grew too comfortable with witnessing death. And what will happen if or when she becomes too familiar with it?

"Are you used to it?" the woman asked in return.

"Yes."

It was an awfully honest answer. She looked at him when he didn't look back at her. A man used to death. Matsukata Satoru, a man in his late 20s, a homicide detective, recently discharged from a hospital after being stabbed. The way Saskia could only ever describe him as average. Average height, average build. He wasn't a bad detective, no, but he was, not surprisingly, average. Blok found Ueda to be a better detective from every point: skill, knowledge, ability to make the right conclusions as well as thinking outside of the box. Satoru spelled with the character for daybreak. Black hair, brown eyes. He had a beauty mark on his right cheek, just aside from his nose. And that's the most notable thing about him in her opinion. An average man too familiar with death.

"Interesting, coming from you," he suddenly spoke again, turning around to face her. "Death is inevitable. And sometimes necessary, don't you think?"

Saskia scoffed at him. She knew what he was implying. _That_ wasn't a secret at the station.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Let's finish this up," Blok said coldly, touching her temple. "The murder is personal. Let's search for any recent lovers."

* * *

"Hey," said Matsukata, approaching her table. Saskia lifted her gaze from the peace of paper. It seemed that this document will be itched into her memory for a good while after.

"I'm sorry," he said. The woman hummed in agreement. He was sincere after all. And while what he was implying was insulting, sincerity was enough for her to let it go.

"It's fine," she nodded, "I too overreacted."

"I shouldn't have. Everyone had their own relationships with death. Just because you —"

"You should have stopped there, Matsukata," she coldly interrupted.

"R-right. You know, I'm just gonna be honest with you for a few moments."

Blok tensed. How often do people say something like this and offer anything positive right after? But Matsukata looked very determined to finish whatever he was about to say. She just saw it as an opportunity to get out of a partnership she didn't want to be a part of anyway. Him running his mouth opens an opportunity for "unreconciled differences" and all that good stuff that puts two people working together forever apart.

"I asked to be partnered up with you," he confessed. "And I looked at your file."

"In that order?" Saskia raised a brow.

"I'm just interested in you, I guess."

He was honest but it didn't help to ease her tension. Many people have been interested in her recently and for all the wrong reasons. She didn't want anyone else to be interested in her. She nodded with every word she took in. Matsukata Satoru wasn't a nuisance. It's unreasonable to put down a person within days. But so far what she knew about Satoru is that he was acting so out of there, ambiguous, unsure and careful. Saskia couldn't quite tell if she enjoyed it or hated it even more than being with Dazai. They were both so... inconclusive.

"Yeah, okay," was all she could offer as an answer. Satoru smiled at her and thanked her. He was about to leave her be when he suddenly stopped. "Are you sure you aren't psychic or something?" Matsukata asked, turning around to offer her a smile once again. He was trying to elicit a reaction from her. A friendly reaction, of course. Saskia sighed, giving in to whatever the man wanted.

"No, I'm just more observant than some," she answered, waving him off.

"Well, if you say so, then I believe you," he shrugged. Saskia closer her eyes. Familiar pain resided in her skull again.

* * *

Saskia met with ADA members at the spot. Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo and Nakajima Atsushi. Strangely, she felt somewhat comforted by their presence. In case something goes wrong, they are her defense, her help. Saskia looked at the three men again. All three of them were present through that bonding experience. Dazai's idea. Dazai…

"Hey," she asked Kunkida, "I forgot to ask, when did the letter arrive?"

"Dazai gave it to us first thing in the morning the very next day you've come to the office."

Her eyes darted toward the man mentioned. Dazai was grinning innocently, waving at her once and placing his hands in the pockets of his coat. Both Kunikida and Atsushi seemed a bit confused for a moment, watching the strange interaction, how Saskia's eyes hardened. But a few seconds later, Kunikida picked up. It's been three days since that bonding time. If Dazai was the first one to discover it and open, he knew exactly how much time he had to prepare. And prepare he did.

"Tell me when it's my cue, Kunikida," Blok said, turning her face away from them all. Apparently, not all people understand the subtle cues. Or simply refuse to understand them. Saskia felt two hands landing on her shoulders. And then Dazai decided that she was a boxer getting ready for an important fight and he was there to cheer her.

"You scared, Saskia-chan?" he enthusiastically asked.

"Get your hands off of me or I will kill you," she snapped. This man lacks many things, but it certainly isn't audacity.

"Promise?" he asked. The hope was shining thought his dark eyes. Saskia considered it a sick kink or something. The idea of being killed gave him much strange elation.

"It's time," Kunikida said, looking at his watch. Saskia walked away from them, covering herself in her jacket more and more as if it could protect her from whatever was about to unfold.

It was a perfect spot for a meeting. Deserted area, no witnesses and a somewhat lovely view, if you forget there's a dumpster not far from here. The only reason the air is breathable is that the wind is favourable. Someone was coming closer to her. She turned around.

"You?" Saskia asked, surprised to see a familiar face.

"You," the man smirked, tilting his head up. From below his hat were two piercing, mocking blue eyes she didn't notice on their first meeting. It is certainly the same man she met that night with Dazai. The mafioso by the name Chuuya.

"So, you are the newest member of the circus, huh?" he asked, measuring her with his gaze. He crossed his arms, getting into a stance. He clearly meant to convey a message that he wasn't one bit impressed by her. He was the superior one here.

"I'm —"

She stopped herself from telling the truth. If the mafia thinks she's with ADA, they won't go after her. She wouldn't be worth the trouble. And at this point, she can't deny her connection to the detective agency.

"I'm on probation, sort of thing," Blok answered. "Chuuya."

"Ah, so you know my name and I don't get yours?" the man smirked.

"Exactly."

"As you wish," he shrugged nonchalantly, "detective Blok."

She looked at him. All she could do was to stare at him. His short stature didn't undermine him even a little bit. And those mocking eyes watching her reaction to his words. He knew who she was. Shivers down her spine. Of course, he knew. He'd seen her face. He'd seen her with Dazai. And she wasn't sure which one was more important to him.

"Don't worry, I won't harm you,"Chuuya assured. "Or tell on you. For now."

Blok didn't respond. _An honest mafioso, really? My partners even aren't this honest with me._

"Are you just going to believe me?" he asked, confused. She raised a brow, surprised by his reaction. This mafia man knew plenty about her. Her name would already give plenty of information. But the thing mafia would be most interest in — her ability — was unknown to him. Dazai didn't tell. And on his own even a mafia leader would have a hard time figuring it out. Saskia smiled. She had an upper hand for now. What comes after... she'll think of something. Worst come to worst, Yokohama didn't hold much significance to her.

"Does it matter if I believe you?" the woman asked, tilting her head playfully. Her hands went into the pockets of the jacket. Two deliberate steps back. Chuuya stepped forward, smirking.

"So, what can you do?" he asked.

"Hmmm?"

"What is your ability?"

"What is this? A children's play of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?"

"Why couldn't it be?"

"I thought we belong to two powerful organizations that are temporally seized fire in order to achieve a mutual goal and not two kids from different playgrounds."

"The second analogy would be more correct," spoke a male voice. Blok and Nakahara turned around to look at the man who approached them. A tall man of slim build, dressed in black and white, carrying a simple clear umbrella. Striking blonde hair. And the color is so pale, it's nearly translucent. Short, neatly styled with two strands framing the square-shaped face. The pale blue eyes that watched them intensely. The aura around him was so impenetrable and cold. Saskia stepped closer to the mafioso because the white-haired man was radiating a whole other level of danger.

"You may call me Tyutchev. I know the man you are all looking for, and I'm here to offer you a deal," the white-haired man spoke.

"I'm listening," Chuuya huffed with impatience.

"I know he had crossed Port Mafia and if you are in any way a respectable organization, the punishment for such transgression is death. As for the Armed Detective Agency, as the law dictates, you would have to turn him in to the authorities, which would put him either in prison or, most likely, under the death penalty for the crimes in Japan alone. However, Port Mafia is not the only organization this man had betrayed, he betrayed us after years of service, therefore, we are entitled to him."

"What you're are saying is that you want him for yourself?"

"Essentially. If either of your organization were to find him first, you'd simply have to give him to us. It is your city, after all."

"And why—"

"And who—"

Saskia and Chuuya looked at each other, annoyed by the interruption. Without thinking twice, Saskia stepped in front of the short man.

"And who is 'us'?"

"We are called The Contemporary if that's what you are asking. We don't operate in Japan and have no interest in doing so, if that's what you are worried about. Ah, I'm sorry," the man shook his head lightly, "I left out important information regarding the deviant we are all searching for."

"What is it?" Nakahara stepped from behind her, irritation clear on his face.

"Well, now that I have leverage, I must say," Tyutchev smiled, "it would be waste of an advantage to simply give it to you."

"You —"

Blok harshly interrupted Chuuya by putting her hand before his mouth.

"You had him as a member of your organization, you have information on him and yet you can't find him?"

"Well," the man hummed thoughtfully. This was the only time his expression wasn't of that irate calmness but of pure, unsolicited mockery. "We have an idea of what he is planning on doing, however, because we have known each other for so long, we know what the other would do. It would be an endless game of hide-and-seek. As you already guessed, he's especially good at hiding."

"You want us to find him and hand him over to you on a silver platter."

"You can keep the silver platter if you wish."

"Alright," Saskia spoke without any confidence whatsoever. Should she agree? She is not a member of the Armed Detective Agency, why would they trust her to speak on their behalf? What she knows about the way they operate is from newspapers and whatever little information given to her by Kunikida, Atsushi, Fukuzawa and Dazai.

"It's not a negotiation," Blok spoke again, harshly now. Dazai was right. Of course, Dazai would be right. Bastards often are. A foreign organization looking for a man who betrayed them. What is there to stop them from burning the city to the ground to find him? Port Mafia and ADA. And that would result in casualties. Isn't that what happened with that vessel and Atsushi?

"Correct. If you don't agree to what I'm offering, we will not stop searching and will do anything to capture him. Murder, an act of terrorism, everything is on the table."

"We can kill you instead," Chuuya smirked.

"You can try killing me, sure, and on the off chance that you succeed, there's just one problem," Tyutchev dragged out a dreadful pause before speaking again. "I am far from being the only member of my organization. And we aren't here all together to be easy prey. Like the hydra: the more heads you cut off, the more will grow in its stead. Do you really wish to bring such warfare to this beautiful city?"

His wording left Saskia disturbed. There were too few things he had spoken so directly. But this was left very unambiguous.

"Then we have no option but agree," hissed Chuuya. "Let say we find him and hand him over, what's then?"

"We leave, of course, it's rather humid in this city for my taste," Tyutchev spoke in his usual calm manner. "Alright, then. The man you are looking for is Tolstoy Leo. You do know of his ability, of course. That's what makes him such a nuisance," he sighed. "And while he assumed the perfect copy of his victims, there are certain limitations. The way we talk, the way we walk, it's all nurture and not nature. To assume the identity of his victim perfectly he must observe them a good while first. He will be looking for The Book, most likely, holding an old grudge against us and having lost some loved ones, an easy way to fix his mistakes."

"And you don't want it? The Book?" Nakahara asked.

"What a nonsensical idea, truly, for the weak and cowardly. We believe that changes can only be done by the people themselves. And those changes we are successfully creating."

"So, what does it give us?" Saskia asked. "Your story is interesting and all but isn't useful."

"How unobservant of you," the man scolded lightly. "If he wants The Book, he needs to be more than an outsider to obtain it. A position of power would be nice, a few powerful alliances too."

"You know what people he'd be trying to contact?"

Tyutchev smiled again. It wasn't mocking, it was cruel.

"I do believe he would try to connect with at least one person. Alone he could never even hope to achieve anything."

"Name?"

"That I do not know."

"Lie," Saskia protested.

"It is, but it doesn't change the fact that I won't tell you." The smile on the white-haired man's face never wavered.

"You just lied to us," Chuuya hissed.

"No one here is asking for trust, just cooperation. I don't trust you at all, this is just a business arrangement."

Blok spared mafioso a glance. Those mocking blue eyes weren't laughing or measuring her, they were studying her.

"A pleasure having business with you," Tyutchev bowed his head. He started making his way back, just as he came here, his steps were silent on the asphalt.

"Wanna exchange numbers or something?" Saskia asked. But the white-haired man didn't turn around to answer her.

"You are new at this, I see," Chuuya smirked, "let's go."

* * *

"If this is your new hire," Chuuya spoke, "I am not impressed," he pointed at the woman behind him. Saskia rolled her eyes. Kunikida fixed his glasses. Dazai opened his big mouth.

"Why would they send you?" he sounded offended. "You are the worst person for negotiations!"

"What did you say, bastard?!" Nakahara stepped closer, threatening Dazai with his fist. Saskia watched everyone's reactions. Specifically, she was looking for one specific reaction. Surprise, confusion, something that would suggest the strange familiarity between the two men from opposing sides. But there was none.

"I can say the same about you," Blok threw back in Chuuya's face. "You almost ruined everything back there with your temper."

Nakahara turned around only to give her a warning look.

"She's right," Osamu picked up, seeming to enjoy teasing the shorter man.

"How would you know, ragtag?"

"Oh, because of this!" Dazai pointed at his ear. "We heard everything."

Saskia reached out to check the insides of the collar of her jacket. Soon, her finger found a round microphone attached to it. That moment Dazai put his fingers on her he also dared to tap her.

"I see you trust me," the woman let her bitterness be obvious to everyone here. But that didn't stop Dazai and Chuuya from expressing their greatest passion for each other.

"Don't misunderstand," Kunikida spoke up first, "it was for your protection as well as surveillance. Also, we should have left 2 minutes ago," his voice started to break, "BUT SOMEONE JUST CAN'T KEEP HIS MOUTH SHUT!"

"Good point," Saskia said, stepping forward, past the short mafioso. Kunikida gripped Dazai by the left arm, she — by the right. Together they were able to effortlessly drag his away from Chuuya. Atsushi tagged along, sparing just one more glance to the mafioso he knew was Dazai's partner in the past. It didn't matter how much distance was put between the two, Kunikida and Blok didn't let go of him. But Dazai himself didn't seem bothered too much by it, chatting away with Atsushi, while being escorted.

"I guess it saves me the time to explain everything," Saskia mumbled. The only person who would pay attention to her voice would be Kunikida since Dazai and Atsushi were consumed by their own conversation.

"That, too," Doppo confirmed with a nod.

"So, did I make the right decision for you, guys?"

"There were no right decisions. You could have walked away, provoking a fight. Or you could have rejected the offer, leaving is in pretty much the same position we are now. And once we caught him, they would come asking for him anyway, where we would have to choose again."

"So, it was useless?" she scoffed, insulted. She was putting herself at risk there. It was only luck that the person who came out there wasn't looking for a fight and Chuuya already knew who she was.

"No," Dazai chimed in as if he was a part of the conversation all along, "we know who we are facing now. And," he turned his head around, smiling, "Saskia-chan wouldn't provoke violence!"

Saskia decided not to comment on that last statement. Not the way he addressed her — the way he seemed to address her with other people around — nor the statement itself. A change of subject is in order.

"Can anyone explain the situation with Port Mafia to me?" she asked everyone but Dazai.

"What do you mean?" Kunikida asked.

"I think she means Dazai-san," Atsushi picked up. Saskia abruptly stopped, letting go of Dazai. The loss of support made him lose his balance for a moment if not for Kunikida. Saskia even stepped aside from Dazai, putting more distance between them.

"I'm listening, Atsushi," she pushed. Osamu and Nakajima looked at each other. A few moments of non-verbal conversation they were having, Dazai smiled and gestured the universal 'go ahead'. The young boy nodded, collecting his thoughts.

"Dazai-san was a mafia member."

She couldn't recall a time she was afraid of the absence of pain in her head. Her gaze shifted from Atsushi to Dazai. The latter dared to have a small smile on his face. He shrugged.

"To be precise, Atsushi," the man added, "I was the youngest executive in mafia's history."

Saskia didn't say anything. The revelation paralyzed her. Dazai Osamu was a mafia member, and — if she were to trust his words — one of the executives on this vile organization. Not that he had a reason to lie about that. His profile also included all the other things Saskia observed about him. Manipulation, deception, pressurizing…

"Saskia-san," Atsushi spoke again, "Dazai-san isn't a bad man."

He didn't lie, Saskia knew that much. She looked at the young boy again. What she knew about him was the truth. He was an orphan, he joined the agency with Dazai's help. This kid saved the city from being crushed by a giant flying ship or whatever it really was. He sure would idolize Dazai to a degree. That wouldn't be a lie, not to him. Atsushi's gaze didn't change but neither did her state of absolute shock and distrust.

"I see you have nothing else to say, Dazai," Blok mumbled, swallowing thickly. The man she is tied to is ex-mafia. Dangerous, vile, deceptive, what else does he have on his resume? If she ever thought about going back on her word to the agency was out of the question. What moral principle does Dazai possess to stop from selling her to the public, to the government, to the mafia? One mafioso already knows her face and her status of a potential gifted. Dazai wanted that to happen?

"It's not that I have nothing to say but the fact you won't believe anything I have to say," he answered calmly.

"If you don't trust Dazai, Saskia-san," Atsushi chimed in, "then can you trust me?"

The woman didn't answer. It was more complicated than just a question of trust. Sure, Dazai could sell her off even if she kept her end of the bargain. But that could cause issues with other members of the agency. Would it be worth for him to sell her off if it meant to lose the trust of his colleagues? How far would they go into trusting him? However, there are many ways to go about it without making him the main villain. No, it was a question of trust first. Then it was a question of her morals and her future. If the first falls apart, it all follows the domino effect.

"Aw, I'm flattered, Atsushi-kun," Dazai cooed. Blok looked at him again, noting that smile on his face. It was almost innocent, almost genuine. That's why she couldn't trust it one bit. She averted her gaze from him, lost in her panicking. She should calm down her spiraling mind but didn't know how to. Thoughts of betrayal plagued her more and more with each passing second. _Ex-mafia, lair, mastermind, blackmailer... _

"I should go," Saskia' voice broke, giving away her state, "there's no need for me to be here anymore. You know everything that happened anyway."

"Wait," Doppo called out. He pulled out his notebook. _Ideal. _Kunikida tore a page from his notebook and it turned into a gun. He offered it to her, "For your protection. You can't go around shooting a police gun. And take it as a sign of trust."

This, perhaps, the closest she had been to experience magic. An excellent trick to stop her crushing state of mind, distract it from the engulfing negative thoughts. He played her like a child. The woman took what was offered and gasped. It was a real gun: heavy and of cold metal. Kunikida knew her ability and she knew of his. A fair exchange. Her eyes still drifted towards the man who most likely planned this bit as well. Dazai just held a very pacifying smile and when he noticed the hesitation in her eyes, he just nodded.


	10. Fateful encounters

She wondered how low his opinion was of her. Dazai Osamu was obviously following her. Was he making it obvious for her to notice or did he think her stupid enough to not notice? She stopped and turned around. It seems, Dazai was just waiting for her to get tired of his bullshit. He waved at her and smiled. He didn't hurry to catch up with her, however, adding to her irritation. She pulled her the plugs, wincing at the sounds surrounding her immediately. Those were the sounds of the living city. When Dazai was finally beside her, she reached for his hand first just in case.

"Aw, you missed me," he cooed playfully, taking her hand in his.

"So, what are you about to tell me," she scoffed at his playfulness. This was foolish. This was theatrical. This wasn't truthful.

"Port Mafia is watching your apartment," Dazai stated very calmly. "So, don't walk around with your bare legs," he added in a familiar childish manner. Blok didn't appreciate the changed in attitude. One second he was solemn and serious and next talking like a child. She sure had seen people wearing and changing masks, but Dazai's talent in doing so is outstanding.

"What a brat you are," she said wanting to sound unbothered.

"Thanks. Don't worry, though, I won't give to the mafia so easily."

"Why would they even need me?" Saskia played it off.

"Aw, I see what you are doing here, detective Blok," Dazai turned to face her. There was that empty smile on his face. Gone was the playful shine from his eyes, now they were just dark and as deprived of sincerity as his smile, "You want to know what I would use you for as an ex-executive of the mafia."

"Aren't you sharp." Blok spoke calmly despite the fear the man could set into her bones. He hasn't done anything to harm her. The biggest threat he'd made so far was to reveal her ability. The most harm he had caused her was an annoyance. She cannot outright claim that he was planning on revealing her face to the mafia. And yet he terrifies her...sometimes.

"Now you will trust me even less, huh."

"I didn't have a single reason to trust you before," Blok replied. She felt at peace at the idea of them not trusting each other. "I have more reasons to distrust you now, ex-mafia Dazai Osamu," she dragged out the last part. She dragged out a reaction from him. Dazai looked at her. Dark eyes filled with emotion, but she couldn't read it. There were too many and they were all gone too fast. In a blink, they turned dark and empty again, observing and sharp and unforgiving. He knew what she did. She felt strangely ashamed of herself.

"You wound me!" To signify the dramatism, Osamu placed a hand on his heart signifying where exactly he was wounded.

"Please," the detective scoffed. "Your dramatic facade is only annoying me," she reprimanded. He pouted.

"Quit it." That was a warning. Dazai stopped moving forward. Their intertwined hands caused her to stop too. And when Saskia looked at him, she felt scared. The emotion on his face — the absence of it — was terrifyingly profound. He had taken all the layers he'd wrap himself in.

"So, you won't trust me?" he asked. His voice didn't convey anything. It wasn't a threat or a simple inquiry.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Trust is a two-way street," he continued, "you have to meet me halfway."

"You aren't doing shit, Dazai!" she shouted at him. "You are manipulating and blackmailing me to do your bidding!"

His hand slipped from hers. His mouth opened and closed. With both his hands back in his pockets, he resumed walking. A smile was slowly drawn on his face. Blok was dumbfounded by the nothing that happened. Nonetheless, she had to catch up with him and fast. What else is there to do?

"There's a good chance that mister Tyutchev and his accomplices had only been keeping an eye on our office," he said, "park your car and only use public transportation from now on. If you have sick days at work, I recommend you use them."

"What happens after we are done with this case, huh?" she pulled his arm in retaliation. "Will Port Mafia come knocking on my door offering their employment benefits?"

"If you worried about that…" His smile was a mocking grin. Dark eyes laughing at her. He made her feel small and powerless and defenseless. He made her feel exactly what she was.

"Then you'll have to trust me," he turned his face to her as he spoke, displaying all the derision he held for her at this moment.

"Trust isn't a given, Dazai!"

Her hand grabbed him by the collar of his coat, pulling him close. Yet it didn't stop him from ridiculing her attitude. With a smug grin on his face, he didn't attempt to free himself. To show how unfazed he was, he kept his hands in the pockets. She felt as if her anger was a joke just by looking at his laughing expression.

"You have to earn it," the words came out muffled through her gritted teeth but understandable. Osamu tilted his head looking even more amused than before. He tore away her hand from the collar of his coat. Long fingers held on to the feminine wrist tightly. And then Dazai turned his face to the side and raised a brow. Saskia followed.

"Matsukata?" the woman yelled in surprise. Matsukata rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, averting his gaze. Saskia broke free from Dazai's hold on her hand and made a step back. This must have looked very out-of-context to Matsukata. It's none of his business but she didn't want her temporary partner to go around the department talking about it. That would simply be bothersome.

"I'm sorry," the man said, still not meeting her eyes. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Her thought was to reach for Dazai and to stop receiving pain for other people's untruths. But this was her colleague lying to her. He very much meant to interrupt whatever it is he thought he witnessed. Now, that could be happening for a few reasons, and only one reason Saskia found acceptable. Her eyes travelled to Dazai who looked very unimpressed.

"I should have known," Satoru finally looked at the two, "there were already rumors."

"What rumors?" Osamu asked.

"About you two…About Blok having a boyfriend."

Oh, that. She had to explain her request to the computer guys at the department somehow. You don't just trace someone's locations for reasons like "he's blackmailing me for my ability to help out" and "he's the only person my ability doesn't work on so maybe this way I'll know something". So, she said she was getting into a relationship after a serious heartbreak and, well, was having some trust issues. The latter was happening anyway, so it's not that much of a stretch.

Dazai's face changed again. He pulled another persona from his collection of masks. This one was a friendly, childish one. The one he used when there was more than one person around.

"Aw, I didn't think you'd tell your friends about me, Saskia-chan!" Dazai could fool anyone with his act of sincerity.

"Sorry," Saskia forcefully smiled.

"I-I should go," Matsukata spoke up.

"Yeah," Dazai agreed, "that you should." Saskia looked at him in shock. There's a sudden animosity in Dazai's tone that she didn't expect to hear in this situation.

"It's late," he added in a much friendlier manner, smiling. He shrugged off the persona that just crawled its way out just a moment ago. Matsukata bowed out. They watched him walk away, neither saying a word. But Osamu's face and tone of voice were surely conveying a clear message to the detective. Dazai Osamu didn't slip up. Green eyes fixated on him, his expression, his body language. But apart from that brief moment, there was nothing else to signify his contempt for the man he'd never met before.

"Who's he?" Dazai asked when Matsukata was gone from view.

"A colleague," Saskia answered, "I'm supposed to be his partner for the time being. He's after surgery and all."

"Really. What do you know about your colleague?" Dazai asked.

"Not much, why?" she deflected.

"Not surprising," he sounded disturbed. Gone was the serene calmness from Dazai's voice. That agreeableness of his. Now the regular Dazai was speaking, the one that annoys her the most. "Do you remember that there is a rat in the police department?"

"And you think it's him?" she scoffed at the idea. Of all the people, Matsukata was the weakest choice to be recruited by the mafia. But Dazai is former mafia. She had no choice but to listen to his suggestions.

"Why not him?" he asked rhetorically.

"I wanted to ask," she shrugged. "I wanted to ask everyone but the problem is there's no subtle way to ask if they work for the mafia without being an asshole. But I'll... think of something."

"What do you think Matsukata was doing here?" he continued. Saskia had only once heard him talking in that tone. Dazai spoke with such animosity towards someone only once before. Only the man named Mori was able to elicit such emotion before.

"Don't know, don't care?"

"Didn't you say he was after surgery?"

"I get it, it's weird, I think so too. But he is not incapacitated." Saskia was about to lose it. Dazai couldn't just tell her whatever it was he was thinking about. Or how he was thinking about it. Asking him a question was just producing more questions from him.

"Remember that deal we had?" she questioned. "Where you owe me a full and honest answer?"

"I gave you my word." Dazai regarded her with a curious gaze. Saskia liked to think she caught him off guard by bringing up an old debt he promised to fulfill when called upon. If Matsukata truly was the one reporting to the mafia, then there was no place for him in the department. All she needed was to ask to know the truth. Hit or be hit kinda thing. If he was, in fact, the rat, she would have to uncover him. Somehow, alone, she would have to uncover him. Her head dropped, expression empty. There was no evidence so far, yet it was hard to doubt Dazai's suspicions. Her eyes wandered the empty streets. How long could she put it off and what evidence should she be looking for?

"There it is," Dazai said, pointing somewhere ahead of them. There was a sign, universally recognized pharmaceutical sign. The woman looked at the man skeptically.

"A night, a street, a lamp, a drugstore," he said, pointing right above them. But no one needs to look above them to know that here's a streetlamp above them.

"Are you on something?" Saskia asked, concerned. Dazai looked at her again with the same curious gaze. Yet this time it turned into amusement fast. He smiled at her, dismissing whatever it was that he started, and walked her two blocks further down the street.

* * *

A cup of coffee was placed on her table. Saskia raised a brow at the man. She was in the process of doing something and knowing Matsukata, he came to chat.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he winked. She let out a loud, exasperated sigh. There's now another man who had something to hold above her head. What's worse, he wasn't as temporary as Dazai. He would still continue working here even if not her assigned partner anymore.

"I see you are getting along," Ueda was quick to comment as he was passing by. Blok closer her eyes and rubbed her forehead. People were getting a bit too much today. Perhaps, Dazai was right and she should have pretended to be sick. She is getting sick of people real fast.

"Well, she didn't bite me yet," parried Matsukata with a light-hearted laugh. Ueda raised his cup of coffee as if to say 'cheers to that'. Saskia did not appreciate their banter.

"Anything else?" the woman asked, irritated by the whole ordeal. She had some work to do as well.

"Since today is quiet, I've been thinking that we should use this opportunity to get to know each other better," Matsukata said in a hushed voice. He didn't look particularly bashful or embarrassed. "I'm just interested in you, I guess."

"Matsu—"

"Come on, Saskia, we have to work together. We work in the same department but know nothing about each other. Well, except I know about your boyfr—"

"Stop right there, Satoru," Blok hissed. She couldn't recall when did they get so close, but she had no problem doing so now. He was overstepping. Again.

"And I'm a little worried," he whispered. Saskia groaned dropping her head in her hands. This was spiraling out of her control. She breathed in and breathed out, she needed to fix this very fast.

"He's not my boyfriend," the woman said, raising her head. "He's more like… potential interest, I guess. Anyway, you are right, it's not going so well, so I'm sure it will be over soon."

"Good," Satoru smiled, "frankly, I didn't like the guy either."

Saskia couldn't manage to smile. Instead, she just nodded and took the cup of coffee on her table. Her eyes turned back to the computer screen.

"So, about that get-together?" he asked, ignoring the obvious hint.

"Not today, perhaps, next week?" her tone indifferent.

"I'll take you up on that!"

* * *

"What else, what else?" Saskia mumbled. One day she'd memorize her shopping lists but, for now, a written one should do. Some random pieces of paper with the scribbled down necessary items. Something pulled on her sleeve. Her gaze immediately went there. A little girl. Saskia took out the earplug. It's not often a child wanders into the instant noodle section.

"Will you help me or no?" the girl asked, crossing her arms and puffing. The moment those were up in the air, something stopped feeling right. The strange feeling inside her head as if…

"Sure, what do you want?" Blok asked, looking at the child. Just a regular g girl. But why did she sound so…wrong. The headache is so familiar. She knew this feeling in her head. And yet, there was no statement made to begin with.

"Top shelf," the girl commanded. Saskia reached out and grabbed what was asked of her. All her thoughts were focused on figuring out why this child was triggering her ability. Detect the lie when spoken. No divine questions and philosophical concepts. She could never say if there's a god but she could tell if a priest didn't believe in one. She could tell when someone lied about what they believed in not but how close those beliefs are to _the truth_. But this child felt wrong. This little girl was a lie.

"Elise-chan!" A man's voice echoed not far from them. The little girl visibly reacted to the name. Blok tensed. Another voice that affected her. This one was different. This voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a face on it.

"There you are, Elise," the appeared in between the isles. "And who is this young lady?"

_This question…this voice…_ The feeling of being drenched in water overwhelmed her. The feeling too familiar. Pain and fear. The voice that caused both. For a fraction of a second, she remembered what it was like to stand behind Dazai while he talked with the mafia members. She remembered thinking they shouldn't have walked away so easily. Now she could finally put a face on the voice of the mafia man named Mori. _Don't let him know._

"A little helper," Blok shrugged and faked nonchalance. _He cannot possibly attack me here. If that's the plan, why make his presence known?_ Mori came closer. And she watched him do just so. The smile disappearing from his face slowly. _Look away from him._ Saskia forced herself to look at Elise who was still by her side.

"I would agree with that," he said.

"Your daughter?" she asked, looking up again. The man was tall and lean with dark hair and even darker eyes. The white coat didn't suit a mafia member. It wasn't an unlucky coincidence they met here. _The mafia is watching your apartment._ Something Dazai got wrong. The mafia was watching her every move. _The mafia would watch the ability users whose profiles were stolen._

"Yes," Mori nodded, "my daughter."

The toes curled up painfully inside her shoes. _Don't let him know. _Saskia bent down to Elise and tried her best to offer a pleasant smile. But the pain was getting to her. And her heartbeat was accelerating. _You can't show either. _Fear and pain.

"You shouldn't run away from your father," she spoke calmly. Her voice hadn't betrayed her yet.

"Then he shouldn't —"

"That's what I keep telling her," the man interrupted. "But Elise-chan doesn't listen!" And then Mori smiled. No, he beamed. Wide and empty as it was, he mimicked an emotion perfectly. Almost cheerful and almost believable. Saskia stepped back trying to keep up with her façade. Yet those eyes were dark and cold and penetrating. Those eyes…

"Have we met before?" the mafioso asked. He cocked his head and pressed a finger to his chin.

"I don't think so," Blok answered._ Shit._

"Hm, you are right," he nodded. "I don't believe we've met before."

A sharp inhale and her toes curled again. She couldn't afford to display pain. She could not afford to give the man ideas. But the feeling was getting more and more intense. Every second sentence from Mori was a lie and Elise didn't sound right in general. Everything she said sounded wrong. What was this child anyway?

"Must be your face," he cheerfully concluded. Mori offered his hand to Elise which she took. Saskia realized a little too late how fixated her gaze was on their physical contact. _A pretty convincing pair._

"What do you say, Elise, to this nice young lady?" Mori prompted his daughter. The little girl was obviously displeased by the idea of saying anything.

"Thank you," Elise said without a hint of gratitude. The girl sounded begrudged.

"It was nice meeting you, Elise," Saskia said ready to bow out. She needed to get out of the situation as naturally as possible. There's a very slim chance that her acting could convince Mori of her obliviousness. But getting out would prevent him from finding out more.

"I'm very grateful for helping my daughter!" Mori said waving her goodbye. Saskia's grip on the shopping basket tightened. Her breath hitched.

"Thank you," he continued sounding so much different now. That switch in his tone and the terrifying look in his eyes. She was too familiar with it. It didn't take her by surprise. "Thank you for all your service."

Their eyes met for the first time. That one moment was enough to understand she didn't manage to fool him. The weak but twisted smile on his face. Predatory and all-knowing gaze. There was no mistaking the underlying message he wanted her to understand. _He knows. Of course, he knows. Why wouldn't he know. And he got me_. Elise placed the item back on the shelf she could reach. And yet despite the terror, Saskia offered one final smile before turning around and calmly leaving. There was no point in running or trying to hide. Despite feeling the target on her back, she needed to continue around her day as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. She felt like crying. The moment the doors of her apartment closed, she let herself cry. In the darkness, leaning against the door, she let a few stray tears roll down her cheek.


	11. Power

She got up in the morning and went to work as if nothing happened. She forced herself to not look back and see if she was followed. Such underhanded tactics would be too simple for the mafia. If Mori was able to get to her at the grocery store, they knew her routine. Changing her routine could be more dangerous than sticking to it. Saskia did her best to act as if she had never heard that voice before or knew when he lied.

"You look tense," noted Matsukata noted when she sat at her table. She didn't have the will to give a response choosing to stare down her cup of coffee. If only she could tell why she was so tense. But there was no safe place for her anymore. Her house was under surveillance, her routine was known and someone at the station must be a rat.

"Matsukata," she spoke slowly. Nothing was happening in her brain or her heart. Empty throughout. _The life you carefully built for yourself, the castles made of salt and sand… _He would question her, he would doubt her and he would hold it against her. She could just step on the castle and kick the sand around. She could ask a question and get an answer. But if she was wrong, if she would happen to accuse him of being deceitful, disloyal and a fraud, no one would let it be. Ever. That's a slip up that would hunt her for the rest of her career in this department. And it probably would be a long one either…

"Nevermind," Saskia dismissed her own words. She needed to wait and be careful. She couldn't afford to act out of fear and desperation. She needed to be smart about it. She needed to be smarter about many things...

"So, coffee next?" He turned around to look at her. Matsukata gave her a very calm and toned-down smile. And yet she could call it the most genuine one among all the ones she'd witnessed. As if an emotion she couldn't recognize was plastered on his face. It was something she couldn't name.

"Yeah," she agreed out of simplicity it would offer.

Matsukata dropped his mediocrity act when there was no one but her to watch him, it seemed. He didn't look the same or sounded as he did previously. Something shifted within him. As if a burden was placed on his shoulders and only now, he decided to show the weight of it.

"The work you do," he spoke with spite almost, "seems so pointless, doesn't it?" He looked out the window as if looking for something or someone. But then his eyes went up to the sliver of sky one could see from this angle. His stare was intense. She wondered what he was thinking.

"I do?" Saskia almost found his slip of a tongue amusing. "You do it too. Good luck waking up in the morning with that attitude."

"But don't you agree?_ That _place is not where power lies."

"Where does it lie?" Saskia asked disinterested, averting her gaze. She felt tense and on guard again. If this situation did not resolve itself, if Matsukata didn't reverse back into the person he was before, there would undoubtedly be a problem.

"I have a few guesses," he shrugged. "But would you do what's necessary to get there?"

"What?" she questioned, tensing under the flow of the conversation. She had been doing quite a few necessary things recently. Things she wouldn't think of doing before. Things she would be questioning. But fewer and fewer choices were given to her.

"Saskia, you aren't dumb to know it," Matsukata spoke again. "The world is not that simple. Those ability-users, like the ones in Port Mafia, they have power. They were given it at birth. But by whom? And why?" Her eyes narrowed. An incredibly strange course of the conversation.

"Are you talking about god or something?" she asked, profoundly confused. Whatever way this man's mind worked was alluding her.

"Let's call it god. It is divine. The right, the ability to go beyond human capabilities, to be able to shape the world around you."

Saskia unconsciously leaned back, further away from him. Every hair on her body stood suddenly on end. "You hold ability users in high regard," she mumbled.

"Power is power, inherited or granted," he shrugged.

"What kind of power do ability-users have then?"

"Both."

She kept her mouth shut. Blok would never call her ability to be one of power. It offered little but pain and discomfort and more distrust. Her 'power' didn't give her the ability to shape the world around her. This ability didn't bend the world to her will. All she could ever do is to tell a lie from the truth and even that was never enough. This ability offered emptiness more than any sort of power.

"Sorry to bring you down with all this talk," Matsukata said. He reverted as if nothing happened. Saskia felt a shiver ran down her spine. Another man in her surroundings she could tell wasn't truthful. Not lying outright but not being truthful. _He said what he said because he thought I could understand him. _Saskia wanted to ask him if he was an ability-user, but the department would have to know about it. No, there's a question she should ask first. _Matsukata holds ability-users in high regard._

"Are you working for Port Mafia?" she stared him down. Matsukata was visibly shocked by the questing. _Either I have him pinned or I just ruined our working relationship._

"Not anymore," he said with a poor display of shame.

"What did you do for them?" Her voice was cold and distant. Her mind was blank and removed from the conversation. This was routine. This was the procedure. She interrogated and cross-examined countless people before. Yet her heart was pounding while she was not paying attention to it.

"Information, obviously," he confessed. "That's what everyone wants. Whoever holds the right kind of information has power too. That's the power granted or, more often than not, taken."

"Did you give them information about our personnel?"

Matsukata smiled. It was just a tug in the corner of his lips and it was there for barely a second. But Saskia noticed it. He felt smug. He felt contempt. "I did not," he said. And Saskia knew better than to trust him. But she couldn't doubt his words. Her ability wasn't triggered. He was still maintaining eye contact. His expression shifted again. This was an expression of surprise. She didn't understand it.

Feeling the creeps all over her body after the conversation with Matsukata, Saskia couldn't get herself to go into the store again without anyone accompanying her. Shaken to her by the appearance of that man, she left hurried and with her mind panicking. She forgot things. But there was little doubt in her mind Mori had picked her for good reasons. He knew who she was, who she was associating with, where to find her and probably suspected her being one of the ability users. What could she save by not telling Dazai? To avoid his obvious questions. He noticed. Of course, he did. Dazai noticed everything. She told him everything she could make head and tails of meaning she told him everything. Dazai wasn't reciprocating one bit. He didn't say anything, just hummed, smiled, and looked rather pleased. Nothing of use. Saskia didn't expect any reassurance from him either. _Once this case is done, the mafia should lose interest in me. Unless they find out my exact ability._ Dazai didn't react to that thinking either. Whatever. She would beat it out of him, she would beat him into helping her and getting her out of hot waters neat and dry. But for now, she just needed his company. In case anything was about to go terribly wrong.

"Are you even trying to find the gifted without me?" Blok asked. Her eyes were scanning the brand names of teas.

"Got some bright ideas, detective?" Osamu asked. His hands reached for the box first, successfully taking it away from her.

"Well, damn, sorry I asked." Saskia forcefully took possession of the box. While he was surely hiding just enough of his amusement, Dazai was fully enjoying her angered expression.

"We are busy," he added, "but nothing about our elusive gifted."

"So, what do you do? You can't be possibly keeping an eye on high-profile people while searching for clues and possibly taking care of other jobs coming in. Not with your limited human resources."

"Hmm, never you took you for a chamomile type," he said instead of answering.

"Recently I've been feeling like I need it," she spoke through gritted teeth. Another question without an answer. Another question Dazai simply glances off. And yet he dared to speak of trust to her and how it was a two-way street.

"Why did I react to the girl? _Got some bright ideas?_" she asked.

"No bright ideas," he answered, dispassionately. "I just happen to know why. She isn't real. Elise is Mori's ability." He was leading into the pet food aisle.

"What the actual fuck?" Blok asked in bewilderment.

"She is an illusion of sorts," he shrugged. This should have affected her the way it did. She just stepped into the world of strange and impossible and wild. Saskia stopped before the pet food aisle, processing the idea of the girl she recently saw being unreal. That girl who asked for her help was an ability. Not a person with history and feelings and thoughts. She didn't know how she should feel about it. Glad that the child in the hand of Port Mafia's boss is not real? Disgusted by the idea that this is the kind of power a person could have? A power that is neither inherited nor granted. A power that is both at the same time too. No one paid her a piece of their mind as she stood before the pet aisle and saw nothing before her. The world ceased to exist. The word that shouldn't exist the way it was living.

"What?" Dazai asked, looking back at her. He picked up some dog treats. _I would never peg him for a dog person. _Blok shook her head in dismissal. It was not nearly a conversation she wanted to have or was able to have.

"That's not how my ability works," Saskia said, dumbfounded.

"Have you seen many illusions before?" Dazai raised a brow.

"No."

"Have you seen many that talked?"

"Obviously not."

"Then how would you know?" he asked matter-of-factly. And he was right. Dazai Osamu was always right. Saskia could only appreciate how removed she was from the world of the gifted. Oblivious to her limits and capabilities. Because she never took any interest in them.

"Let's go then," he said. She followed, her mind absent and blank. This was routine too. This was a procedure of sorts as well.


	12. Tragedies

_A_fter the strangest talk she had with Matsukata, Saskia felt even less at ease around him. Knowing that something within the machinery of his soul could shift so easily only reminded her of the people she was dealing with and the person she was supposed to help find. A shapeshifter. If Dazai's words were anything to go by, they couldn't so much as catch the wind of him. Her mind stressed and desperate for respite started conjuring up a hope of him leaving Japan altogether. But that would be too good to be true. _What would Matsukata think of ability-user with a gift like this? Fascinated? Disgusted? Terrified? Tantalizing?_ She looked at him from the corner of her eye, studying, analyzing. This was the Matsukata that was always there before. The Matsukata everyone knew of. Saskia shivered, remembering the swift and painless transition between her partner and the person she had coffee with. Something about his incident perhaps? But as little as she had heard, there wasn't anything special about the incident. Hit-and-run, in a way. Yet that was the only situation she could put the blame on. What a night it must have been for him to change him so radically. No wonder he considers our job useless now.

And what a day this has been. A not-so-recent victim of Port Mafia resurfaced from the bottom of a canal. No puns there. The body was found by pure accident. It was a classic and all-too-well-known case of a Mafia's handiwork. Matsukata was right. There wasn't much they could do about this case. A dead person is a tragedy, but tragedies are countless. While the victim would be identified, there's little chance they have been reported missing. And while anyone with a pair of eyes could tell what had happened to the poor fellow, there was nothing they could do. Going after the Mafia was equal to go shark-hunting with a fishing rod. At best it would ineffective. At worst, someone would end up just like this guy.

"A week or so," Matsukata said, observing the body. Blok nodded in agreement. A somewhat accurate guess. "Ueda had one recently too."

"Like this one?" Saskia cocked her head. This was a bit surprising. Matsukata nodded. His expression was blank. It gets like this with times. At first, one would feel saddened by witnessing death. Some instead would feel angry and seek justice. Some would do that to stroke their egos, appease the dead, soothe their anger, fulfill their duty… In the end, most continued doing this because that's what they knew how to do and that's the only way they knew how to walk. There wasn't much anger or sadness or anything, truly, behind their eyes. Saskia experienced it firsthand. A case had to be gruesome to elicit any sort of emotional response. Like the Takara case. Either one of them.

"Detective Matsukata?" one of the coroners asked. Satoru didn't respond, just raised his hand up, as if to indicate it was him. "Are you leading the case?"

Blok and her partner exchanged a brief glance. Saskia barely nodded at that. There was plenty on her plate to chew and swallow. She could let this case rest in someone else's hands. It wasn't going to turn into anything big. But the fact there had been another case like this one recently was curious. Mafia must be cleaning up after the mess that occurred after the shapeshifter escaped. _Mori might suspect some in aiding him._ She caught herself thinking of a mafia boss as someone she knew, someone of the general population, someone she had seen enough times to recognize. She shivered. The memories of his eyes resurfaced. The little girl who accompanied him. And his voice. The menace she felt in his presence. And they pain his words brought her.

"You okay?" Matsukata asked. She nodded instead of making any sort of noise. She didn't trust herself right this moment. She felt as she would break down again. Just like she did before. Saskia breathed in and out. There was no room for her fear or desperation. There was no room for her to start breaking down. No one was there to pick up the pieces. _Pull yourself together. _

"Let's wrap this up," the leading detective said, looking around. "We know what happened anyway." For a moment, Blok thought she heard something in his voice. A sting of regret, perhaps, or blame. Her ability never allowed to discern emotions, she could only guess as anyone else what was happening in another person's heart.

"And that's what I meant by being useless," Satoru said with too obvious resentment. Saskia didn't react to those words in a manner that would be just as obvious. Her eyes were focused on the road and her mind was unrest. She spared the man on her left a glance when she could. Something about him felt off again. Perhaps displeased by lack of a response, Matsukata continued talking in the same tone of his.

"There's no one who could do anything for that guy," he said. Blok maintained an unshakable demeanor. There wasn't much that could be said to that. She would either sound hopeless or bitter or even insensitive. But Matsukata was hammering the nail on the head. "That's the world we live in," Satoru continued. "Port Mafia is only untouchable because of the ability users."

"Doubt it," Saskia responded. Her tongue was way ahead of her head. She didn't want to engage in this conversation. This was dangerously close to home. "It's not like Port Mafia is the only criminal organization that has ever grown powerful enough to be untouchable."

"True, but where does their power come from?"

"Money, influential people, probably blackmail, human trafficking and illegal businesses like contraband," Blok shrugged. "The only thing we know for sure is that they don't get involved with drugs."

"You think that's the reason the poor guy was shot?"

"I wish I knew." Depending on one's own definition of a lie, this could be considered lying. While she had no knowledge of what exactly got the poor guy killed, she started to have some guesses. There was no solid and were mostly formed by her mind wandering around and fumbling with the pieces of reality presented to her, yet there wasn't anything that proved her wrong either. They settled into silence when the car stopped on the red signal. Saskia didn't look at the man on her left but she could tell when she was being watched closely. Carefully and without being obvious, but Matsukata was observing her. His gaze was heavy and unwavering. He must be looking for or already seeing something. That didn't make her feel any better. Her mind if unrest before now felt like pierced by needles. When the car started to move again, the silence was broken.

"Say, do you believe in god?" Matsukata asked.

"Not really," the woman laughed for a moment at the question. They were back to the talk about god and divine powers or something like that. "It's not like I believe there's no god, more like I don't find it important to believe in any."

"Why?"

"I don't — it's — ugh," Saskia struggled with the wording. "I think if anything divine does exist, it's in parallel to us. Sort of."

"Meaning we'd never meet god even after death?"

"Why would we?"

"Well, I believe in god," Matsukata said. "And I believe he had a better plan for us all. Until we made it fall apart. Until — Nevermind. I don't want to bring you down with the talk." Saskia knew that her face betrayed nothing about the conversation. Despite how strange he found his words or how irrational she found them to be. All she knew for certain is that Matsukata didn't lie about his beliefs. And Saskia couldn't help but wonder if his belief in god and greater purpose had anything to do with ability users. She glanced at the man once again. Yet he had already reverted back to the Matsuakta of the police station. Blok tensed. _I'll have to talk to Ueda._

Back at the station, Blok spied someone else. Someone she didn't want to see today of all days. Tanizaki. She'd duck down and crawl back to her table if only it didn't look suspicious to Matsukata. He would ask questions. And she didn't like the questions he asked. Tanizaki, however, wasn't all that oblivious. From the other corner of the hall, he was able to recognize and comprehend the simple gesture that told him to stay away: a hand going through Saskia's neck. Immediately he pulled out his phone. But no matter how many times she checked, no messages were delivered to her. The screen of the phone lit up again as her fingers tapped at the screen again. Nothing was wrong with her reception.

"Waiting for your boyfriend to text you?" Matsukata asked from behind. _Damn it._ She wanted to swear. She wanted to shout. She wanted to accuse him. But the only person she had to blame right now was herself. Something in her demeanor was betraying. And Matsukata was still watching her. She could feel his eyes on her back. That's not how a partnership should feel. The watching of each other's back shouldn't feel so literal.

"We had an argument," Saskia lied.

"Is that why you were so tense all day?" he continued to press.

"Yes," Blok lied again. It came easy. Too easy for her liking. But people lied for many reasons, and she was not above a single one of them. She'd lie more if that guaranteed the catching of shapeshifter and the end of her partnership with Matsukata. The end of her partnership with Dazai.

"Didn't you say it was nothing serious and falling apart?" Satoru pressed more. Her eyes shut close as if expecting a hit on the face. She did say that. She completely forgot. He could catch on the fact she was lying. She was lying from the very beginning. She didn't want to throw him off so quickly. Not before she got more answers out of him. If he was ratting out to Port Mafia before, he could know who was doing it now. Or at least suspect someone.

"Doesn't mean I want to end so badly," she said instead, tiptoeing around her forgotten lies.

"You must like him then." She didn't see the man's face, but he was surely smiling. She clenched her jaw in annoyance. A moment to gather her wits before offering a vague enough response anyone could buy into.

"Perhaps," the woman nodded and stood up. "Talk later." She turned around to look at his face. Matsukata Satoru. A man, apparently, of many faces. She shouldn't have assumed his averageness to be the core of what he was. The man hid his many-faced nature immaculately well. But he didn't look any different now than the man she barely knew a few months ago. Right at this moment, it was the Matsukata everyone knew of. Saskia walked away from her table, feeling the last glance Matsukata was sparing her distancing figure. Behind the doors of a woman's washroom, Saskia was quickly tapping at her phone. Today was about as good as any other day to tell Dazai what she had gathered about Matsukata. It felt disgustingly normal. There was no guilt or hesitation in her action, not a sliver of doubt. And she was reporting to an outsider about her colleague. She should have felt something. She should have some qualms about trusting Dazai. But the ability user from a detective agency seemed as good as a friend at the moment. She wouldn't get to talk to Ueda tonight without her work partner knowing. And that's not a conversation to have but in person.

"Damn-it-fucking-all!" Saskia kicked the door of the stall in frustration. Besides needing proof, she needed plenty of other things: a clue towards the shapeshifting gifted and a piece of mind. She breathed in and breathed out and for a moment the world around stilled. But only for the moment she held her breath in her lungs. The phone's notification ringed and echoed. A reply from Dazai.


	13. No kindness

Saskia watched from a dark and distant corner the way Dazai Osamu operated as a human being waiting alone in a social place. Dazai was charming a female patron. Skillfully — might she give him credit where it's due — cajoling and appeasing the woman with his flattering words. Blok couldn't hear a sound from them, but the observation was enough. Dazai's victim placed a hand to her mouth, evidently giggling, and waved a hand before his face to shoo away his cunning words._ Do not mistake him for his mask_. While appearing to be a slacker in everything, Dazai was a craftsman. The masks he owned were numerous and each was meticulously done. Saskia cocked her head as she watched the man kiss the woman's hand and get up from his seat. She sighed. Not nearly as stealthy as she thought she was. They made eye contact, and Saskia followed him.

She ordered a virgin drink, while Dazai got himself a glass of orange juice with a straw. She gave him a questioning look but didn't react in any other way. Questioning Dazai was akin to questioning god. God's ways are not our ways and all that. And then Saskia started to talk. Everything she had gathered about Matsuakta, however little it was, everything that was unsettling her. And he listened. He listened while sipping on his juice, sometimes purposefully loud, and with a look of a curious child. _Do not mistake him for his mask._ When she finished, Dazai grinned.

"All I'm saying is that it's a bit suspicious, Detective Block," Dazai said with a playful pout, "that you withheld it until now." Saskia rolled her eyes at it. Why was he bothering himself with being so pretentious was beyond her understanding. He could have dropped the act and be straight with her. She could take it. But he never did. Frustrating.

"I'm telling you now," she replied. "Matsukata used to spy for the mafia. He didn't give out any information about personnel."

"And you are sure of it," he said with a grin on his face. Saskia just blankly stared at him. If this was his idea of a joke, she didn't share the sentiment. Dazai dropped his grin after a few seconds of no reaction. "Well, what information was he giving out?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"Does it matter?" Blok asked. She couldn't imagine questioning Matsukata about his mafia affair without being…well….unpleasant. The whole conversation would be very unpleasant. In addition, now she had to find evidence and uncover him. He was a traitor once before. He fed information to the mafia. Did it matter what information? Not to her. And Dazai didn't have to be involved in the slightest. Their business was catching a shapeshifting gifted and not uncover the dirt on the precinct.

"Of course," Dazai replied. "It could tell us—"

"Dazai," Saskia said with an edge to her voice, "it's none of your business."

"Then why did you tell me about it?" he blinked at her.

"Because I can't tell anyone else," she confessed. It was the ugly truth. It was the numbness inside her that moved her to text him. It was the feeling of the walls closing on her and knowing there were fewer and fewer people she could trust. Ironic at it was, her ability didn't disclose her trustworthy people, just the people who lied the most. She can't trust Matsukata, after knowing everything, no one would be able too. And she cannot trust Dazai because he is Dazai.

"I can't tell anyone at the station," she continued ranting, "without evidence I'll just sound mad. And ruin whatever relationships I have there. But I need to tell someone, otherwise, I'll go mad and so it might as well be you. I can bounce some ideas off of you."

"In that case," Dazai smiled. It wasn't the empty smile he often wore. It was a self-satisfied smirk. "I have some ideas to bounce off of you."

"Why are you," she said but stopped. This was a bit too late to question his motivation, wasn't it? But she needed to hear the answer. "Why did you even bother coming here and listening to me? Why do you want to help?" She sounded affronted. Yet she wasn't. Not by his presence or his willingness to listen. If she dared to look inside herself, she felt grateful.

"if I'm with you, I don't have to do paperwork. And because I want to help you," he answered simply while chewing on the straw. It came off so naturally. It was terrifyingly ordinary. Do not mistake him for his mask, she reminded herself. _Dazai Osamu doesn't do kind._

And she reminded herself over and over again. Over the course of their conversations about nothing, about things that let their minds wander off somewhere it was a little better than here. They didn't talk about themselves or their past or hopes for the future. They talked about the history of ADA, the taste of alcohol, and annoying paperwork. Together they joked about abilities and lack of thrill in the lives they lead. They laughed about things people did and were deemed amusing or ridiculous by them. Not once did they pose a question about other's past or experiences or dreams. As removed and as distant as possible, they were here to find a little solace. It was fragile. They barely achieved it.

She had watched people lie and she knew exactly when they lied. But Dazai Osamu was different. No matter how she watched him, how closely she observed the little things he did when talking, she could never capture the things that gave him away. As if the truth and lie existed at the same time, it didn't matter what he talked about, he talked about it all the same. He talked about life as he talked about death. He joked about a lack of thrill in life as he joked about the thrill in death. He was unreadable, unknown, uncharted.

Saskia looked at him again. She would never be able to read Dazai. He wouldn't let her. She sighed and got up from the stool.

"Leaving already?" Dazai asked with a cock of his head.

"Yup," she chuckled.

"I thought you'd keep me company."

Blok rolled her eyes at that. She looked around the bar, easily finding the woman Dazai was previously flirting with. "I think you should reconsider the company you want to keep," she said still looking at the woman. Dazai followed her line of sight and chuckled.

"If you insist," he said as if meekly agreeing to something forced on him. Saskia huffed and shook her head. This man was strange in more ways than one. She made one step forward and was stopped by Dazai's voice again.

"Are you sure you want to leave?" he asked. It wasn't an option. She was leaving.

"See you around, Dazai," she muttered only loud enough for him to hear. It was not a conversation to be had here and now. She was leaving. And Dazai would go back to what he was doing before she arrived. And that gave her a sense of control over reality. By choosing to go home when she didn't want to. When it was tempting to remain in the company of a man she would never be able to read and who wasn't a part of her ability. But remaining together in this forgotten hole-in-the-wall bar would be an act of kindness toward each other. It would be throwing a lifeline to the other and not let them drown in their respective loneliness. _Dazai Osamu doesn't do kind. _

* * *

Blok rushed Ueda in the conference room and closed the door behind them. After closing the blinders, she let out a sigh and put on a mask. It was Dazai's plan. She was going along with his plan. _"Tell Ueda to come to the station early. Talk to him one-on-one."_ The easy part was done. Ueda wasn't one to refuse a colleague. And Saskia was clearly looking distressed lately. Who would have thought it would play into her hands. Ueda was standing and patiently waiting for her to talk. _"Say it's about Matsukata. He is worrying you. Something bad happened to him recently, he has trouble coping."_ Saskia doubted it was the reason behind her partner's dualistic nature. _"Lie."_

"I think Matsukata has PTSD or something," she said looking the man in the eye. Hiroto raised a brow in question. She did sound a tad mad to him right now. Understandable.

"PTSD?" Ueda asked. "From what?"

"I'm not saying it's like a diagnosis, but he has troubles dealing with something," she said. She needed to come off naturally. Something felt off to her, she couldn't pinpoint what it was. She was just a human being concerned for another human being. A colleague worried about another colleague. "Things he talks about," she continued, sounding purposefully hesitant, "are disturbing. I think the guy is about to lose faith."

"Faith?" Ueda questioned, amused. "I don't think he ever had one."

Blok managed to suppress the surprise erupting. This is was a joke on Ueda's part but it was an important give-away. It's not as if Matsukata had to proclaim his personal beliefs to anyone, but it surely didn't fit the self-portrait he has been painting. Her guts were correct. Something is off about her partner. Both of them, but for now she could take care of one.

"Tell me how he was before all that," she said endearingly. "So I can try and help him."

It was an easy lie. Truthfully, deceiving Ueda like this never seemed to be a hard job. He was a good detective, but he had too much faith in his fellow law enforcing men. It's because he never knew when they were lying. About little things, about little things that somehow mattered to them. Saskia would feel disgusted by herself and her actions a little later. Hiroto thought about her words for a moment in silence. He frowned. He crossed his arms. He looked at a loss. But Saskia hadn't changed a single thing about her story. Her expression was of calm acceptance.

"Let's sit down, I guess," Ueda said gravely. Blok understood his predicament and remained calm in the face of it. She couldn't express guilt over causing it. They sat down facing each other and Ueda started to talk. Saskia listened. And the more she listened, the more Matsukata Satoru didn't sound like the man she came to know. There was a layer of a different cloth to the costume. But she kept her disquiet locked inside and silenced. Her apprehensions hidden behind the wall of poise and appropriate indifference. Yet the sense of foreboding was overwhelming. Consciously or not, her fingers were gripping her phone. And just once, as she was taking in every word from Ueda, her mind recalled Dazai's name.


	14. Chemistry

Matsukata was his regular self. Saskia rolled her eyes. What made him think so smugly of himself? He wasn't fooling her here. Ueda respectfully let her take the reigns here. However, he did say he would always be happy to help with anything. Blok pressed the button on the coffee machine. There wasn't any way around it. If she wanted to get to Matsukata, she had to be what Dazai had been to her. Friendly. Approachable. Fake. Except for last evening. Last evening something felt different. It was different. She called out to Dazai, and he responded. It was above their contract. There was no reason for him to come and listen. There was no reason for him to help out. It wasn't out of kindness, she believed, but perhaps a little bit of understanding. After all, for some reason, Dazai had left mafia at some point in his life. She doubted it was a pleasant reason or a sudden change of heart. She doubted a god had shined a light on his soul and let him to a different life. Something must have pushed him from being a mafia underboss to a life of paperwork and investigation. The smell of coffee pulled her out of her reminiscence. _It was just yesterday. Don't look back on it so fondly and melancholically._

She placed a cup of coffee on Matsukata's table. It got his attention immediately. The man offered her a small smile before taking the cup into his hand.

"Appreciate it," Satoru said before tasting his beverage. He didn't continue sipping it. Saskia guessed it was to hot for him. She took a sip of hers.

"Just returning a favour," she replied casually.

"Are you feeling cold?" he asked.

"No," she replied, "just like my drinks hot."

"It's scorching," Matsukata noted. Saskia smiled for a moment of two. It was very hot indeed but never bothered her. It didn't even burn her tongue. "I'm finishing the paperwork on the mafia handiwork," he said instead, "wanna take a look?"

Blok nodded and leaned over the table. Satoru turned the files around so she wouldn't have to read upside down. The victim had been identified. As suspected, he was a young man involved with the mafia. He had only his old mother to worry about him. She was able to identify her dead son but, considering the condition of the body, a dentist report was inquired as well. It confirmed.

"Were you the one to tell her?" Saskia asked, choosing to look him in the eye. He just nodded in conformity. And then something switched within him again. Satoru wasn't himself again. The corners of his mouth fell. Eyebrows furrowed slightly while the rest of his face relaxed. His eyes darkened.

"I didn't want anyone else to do it," he said.

"I could have gone with you," Blok protested.

"No," he said with a sardonic smile and a barely audible huff. "I'm more used to death than you are." He took a sip from his coffee and grimaced when the hot liquid touched his tongue. Yet he forced himself to swallow. Saskia leaned back, averted by the display of stubborn endurance. "I don't want to push you closer to death if I can help it," he said. His voice sounded a tad strained after having a good gulp of hot coffee. Saskia opened her mouth in surprise. There was no pain. Mastukata was being honest. She scrambled back a bit more. Why was he being so considerate and nice now? Did he suspect her of being on his case? He didn't lie. He couldn't be trying to sway and win her over, she'd know he was lying. Yet he never displayed anything but extreme duality. He talked about power and god and gifted in a way that made her shiver. He truly was more used to death, they had this conversation before.

"Thanks, I guess." It was all she could say. Matsukata didn't reply. Just raised his cup of coffee as if to toast. She spared him one last glance and started to walked away. She didn't feel his eyes on her anymore. But she noticed that someone was trying to get her attention. Ueda was beckoning her to come over with a finger. Saskia discreetly flipped him off. It would be foolish to approach Ueda right after speaking with Matsukata. Even if he wasn't watching her as closely as he used to, she doubted he stopped watching her altogether. Ueda was taking none of her shit. He got up from his desk and approached her himself.

"You could bring me coffee too, ya know," Ueda played causally. "I need it more than he does."

"Why's that?" Saskia asked, confused between being angry and amused.

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "Woke up early."

Saskia hid her expression well from anyone who would observe. Yet her eyes could tell a whole story of how she was raging due to Hiroto's nonsense. He was doing it on purpose and out of worry. But Blok needed him to be cool and professional about the whole issue with a fellow officer. Hiroto placed his hand around her shoulders as an old buddy would. He was slowly leading her away from Matsukatra's desk, out of his earshot, and to the coffee machine.

"Make me coffee," Ueda finished. "And we can discuss the similarities between our cases. What did Matsukata write in the case file?"

"Ugh, whatever," Saskia agreed, turning her head to look at Hiroto, dropping his arm from her shoulder. In the corner of her eye, she could see Satoru leaning above the paperwork, working diligently. She understood what Ueda had been trying to do. He played it smart. He played it casually. She could even say he played it well. Yet she wished he was more level-headed.

Blok watched as Ueda pressed the button on the coffee machine. They didn't talk right away. Both awkwardly beating around the bush knowing the subject of their discussion is touchy.

"Something happened inside Port Mafia," he mumbled. Saskia scoffed. It wasn't a particularly important conversation. Something was likely always happening inside Port Mafia. She doubted they operated the way an office would with fixed hours and lunchbreak.

"Cute how worried you are, Ueda," Saskia mocked. It didn't amuse her colleague one bit. He graced her with a derisive look.

"Anything weird about him again?" he asked, looking away.

"Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't make you wake up so early," she replied. "But nothing new."

"Alright," Ueda nodded without looking at her. "You two getting along at least?"

"We can function," Blok offered an evasive answer. A reply vague enough to never give a name or description to their relationship. It was strange and not all honest. Saskia started to wonder who was least honest in their partnership. Was it her? She lied about Dazai to Matsukata. But she couldn't tell him the truth either. And she continues to lie to Matsukata with her behaviour and actions. And he displayed an act of sincerity, despite it being first and only one. What did she do except to start lying to Ueda too?

"Something else you want to talk about?" Ueda asked. "You look stressed. You've been looking stressed for some time now."

"No," Saskia quickly come up with an answer. Dazai. "It's nothing to worry about. Just some relationship problems."

Hiroto raised a brow. "You don't mean you and Matsukata…?"

"God, no!" Blok retaliated. "What's wrong with you?" She slapped his shoulder. Hiroto laughed albeit briefly.

"Careful," he said, "you can't send another detective to the hospital."

"You only need a mental one."

"After you," Ueda winked.

"You are eager then?" Her tone was playful. Her eyebrows raised in question. She misunderstood Hiroto from the very beginning. He wasn't taking here to talk about Matsukata. He wanted to talk to her about her.

"I get your point," the man flashed a toothy smile. "Glad you are self-aware."

"I am nothing but."

Ueda picked up the hot cup. "If you say so," he hummed. Saskia was ready to slap his shoulder again. "At-ta-ta," he made a quick step back. "See this?" He raised his cup higher, to his eye level. "Very good, very hot coffee."

"Good? You really do need a mental hospital."

"Okay, smartass, scram," Ueda said, shooing her. "I want to enjoy it in peace."

"Sure, sure."

* * *

Saskia didn't look through the whole history of Dazai's movements. She wanted to know what kind of man he was and what he was doing by tracking his location, but that didn't help. And she could take a guess where Dazai spent the rest of the evening too. What she was surprised is to find his location to be in the same bar as yesterday. Her fingers tapped on the wheel nervously. He could have just left his phone in a rush. She could choose to go inside the bar and discover he simply lost his phone. Or she could find him inside, having a drink, seducing another female patron. Or maybe even the same one. He could be returning here with her again. She should just leave, go home, ignore the issue. But she couldn't help but be curious why Dazai Osamu would be coming here. She opened the door and breathed in the cold evening air. She can't help her curiosity. It was Dazai. It made no sense. It had to be his whimsical nature.

She walked inside and found him immediately. He was sitting on the barstool with a drink in front of him. She saw him before he could see her. But it wasn't a long while before their eyes met. Dazai raised his glass, beckoning her to come over. He knew she couldn't drink. Yet Blok went over to him anyway, still burning with desire to know what sparked such a man to come here again. He didn't strike her as a settler. He was a vagabond. _Chuuya was right about something. _The last thing she noticed while striding through the bar is that Dazai was alone. He wasn't charming anyone here, he wasn't even trying to chat with the bartender. He didn't rush to her when he saw her. He didn't call her to come over. He didn't address her in that annoying manner.

Saskia sat beside him on a barstool. Suffice to say, Dazai wasn't drinking orange juice anymore.

"I thought you'd never come," he said. It was empty words. They didn't contain any emotion. They didn't carry any connotation. He was just looking down at his drink as if it contained answers. Saskia looked there too, for a moment, hoping to find some answer of her own. But all she saw was ember liquid and a tiny ice-cube melting away in the alcohol.

"I am a full-time employee, you know," she said and averted her eyes from the glass. Instead, she focused on Dazai. He was slouching, his head hanging lower than usual. Yet she couldn't say he was sad or upset or angry. He wasn't any of the things she'd associate with a man drinking alone. He seemed blank. Empty. His tone was only adding to that impression.

"Say, did you ever kill someone?" he asked without sparing her a glance.

"Yes," she answered simply. _Well, that's quite a jump._ She wasn't going to return the question, however. It would be stupid. Dazai just hummed. His fingers gently gripped the glass tilting it slowly and continuously. The amber liquid was stirring inside slowly, the tiny ice-cube lost in the motion.

"I'll have one drink with you," she said thoughtfully. Her eyes strained on his face. Osamu didn't look at her once. His gaze wasn't even looking at the glass with alcohol. Saskia could tell he was looking but not seeing. He was looking somewhere else. He wasn't seeing the glass. "But only one," she repeated, "I'm driving." The corner of his lips turned upwards. Saskia raised her hand to get attention from the bartender. She named her order.

When the bartender placed the glass in front of her with a distinct _clink_, Dazai looked at her for the first time since she sat beside him. He was still holding his glass, yet the motion stilled. It was lightly tipped to a side inviting her to touch their glasses. Green eyes studied him but all in vain. Osamu wasn't moving or saying anything, just inviting her with a simple and recognizable gesture. The glasses were stuck together. Dazai turned around on the barstool. His drink was placed back. Saskia forgot to drink hers as she observed the change in the demeanor. A smile was now gracing Dazai's face. He leaned his head on his hand and gave her a curious once-over.

"So, did my plan work?" Osamu asked with untainted self-assurance.

"Do I really need to stroke your ego?" Blok scoffed. They held eye contact. Dazai didn't remit. _I need a drink for this. _"Yeah, yeah, it worked," she said and chugged the drink immediately after. It burned her throat, but then it turned into a pleasant and overwhelming warmth all over her body. It wouldn't last long either. Dazai was still grinning.

"What?" Blok asked suspiciously.

"What do you say when someone helps you, Saskia-chan?"

"Fuck off, Dazai Osamu?"

Dazai laughed. It was forced, a bit overreactive, Saskia could tell that much. He wasn't laughing because he thought her funny. But his act was grossly over-the-top. He was letting her know the truth behind his laughter. She could tell now what he was looking for. The bartender placed the smoked salmon finger bites before them. Dazai reached for them first. Saskia slapped his hand away and stole one bite.

"Now you can have one," she said with a smug smile. Not that she had to tell that. His fingers were quicker than her words. _What a child. _It wasn't a thought filled with fondness. He simply lacked manners. Dazai turned his face to her and stuck out his tongue. _At least he finished chewing. _

"Mature," Blok deadpanned.

"Bartender," Dazai said, turning away from her, "give me a new drink, please. This one's warm."

Saskia noticed the look the man gave to her partner. The look of slight annoyance. The look of _whose fucking fault is that._ When the new glass arrived, Dazai repeated the same gesture. The woman just stared at him blankly. She had finished her drink. The one and only drink she promised to have tonight.

"Ah, right," Osamu said with a faint smirk. "Bartender, the lady's glass is empty." The man gave a thumbs-up to indicate that he had heard the order and was working on it. The woman didn't believe in Dazai's forgetful nature. He was trying to make her drink again.

"I promised you one drink, Dazai," Saskia sternly reminded.

"You promised to have one drink with me and you had it by yourself." His faint smirk became a prominent one. It made her grimace. What a childish game he was playing.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she questioned.

"Are you afraid I'll take advantage of you?" Dazai raised a brow. Saskia scoffed at his oblivious façade. _As if that is something out of the ordinary. _

"I'm afraid of being an irresponsible driver," she said and turned away from him. She didn't put any effort into her answer for it was the truth. Whatever battle of wits Dazai was trying to start here, she wasn't having it. It was a long day, she had been under a lot of stress recently. If entertainment was Dazai's goal here, she wouldn't provide it. He can go and look for someone else for that. There was a whole bar for that. There were other people for that.

"Say "Aah"," she heard beside her. It mortified her. Yet she turned her face to him again. He was holding a salmon bite between his fingers and nudging her like a child to open her mouth and eat.

"What the actua—"

His hand moved closer to her face. Saskia instinctively swapped it away. Osamu showcased his hurt ostentatiously with a dramatic pout and blowing cool air on his hand.

"If we weren't in a public place," Blok hissed at him. The shock of what had just transpired hasn't settled yet. Did Dazai just attempt to feed her like a child? As if she would it from his hands. She was not his dog.

"What would you do?" the man asked with a smile. There were lights of amusement dancing in his dark eyes. And under those dark eyes were barely noticeable mimic wrinkles. He was genuinely amused. This were the things that amused him. Saskia didn't understand him at all.

"Idiot," she said. Timely as always, the bartender placed her drink. Her fingers reached for the glass before she offered a nod as a sign of gratitude.

"Now, what should we drink for?" Dazai asked casually. His sounded so natural in this situation. Saskia envied his ability to match the pretense of a situation perfectly. As if they were meant to meet in this bar and share a few drinks. As if, as if.

"To catching our fish and never go fishing together again," Saskia said sarcastically.

"That's a convoluted metaphor," Osamu said thoughtfully. "Were you good at poetry in school?"

"Nope," she shook her head. Green eyes fixed on the drink inside her glass. "Chemistry, though, I was good at."

"To chemistry then," Dazai struck his glass against hers.


	15. The need to know

_Dazai walked out of the bar alone. It was dark outside already but it's not like the bar could be opened through the night. And Saskia had left a good while back. There was no point for him to stick around yet it wasn't as if he had something to go back to. The night air felt great inside his lungs. What didn't feel good was someone trying to spy on him. Someone who wasn't mafia either. Their tactics differed. Dazai chuckled to himself before turning around. If someone wanted to spend time spying him, he was going to pay them for their patience. He cut a corner and walked into a narrow ally. _

_"Come on out," Dazai beckoned his stalker. Whoever they were, they couldn't be very far. And this was a perfect place to attack him. "I know you've been watching me," he said without turning around, without looking for the person who was stalking him here. Nothing happened. Dazai walked further into the ally. He couldn't walk forever; it was a dead-end after all. A hand wrapped around his neck from behind, then another on top of it. They couldn't choke him like this or break his neck. Osamu chuckled again. _

_"Are you trying to activate your ability?" he asked, amused. "Sorry to break it to you: abilities don't work on me." They didn't break his hold of him for a few moments. Finally understanding he meant it, the hands let go of him. He could hear the frantic running behind him. Dazai turned around and rushed to chase his attacker. He didn't run too far. Just as he cut the corner, he stopped. He knew what he needed to know. _

* * *

Saskia hesitated to come inside the office. Crossing the doorway of the agency never led her to anything good. And beyond this door was Armed Detective Agency with their gifted employees. Familiar people yet so foreign. There would be Dazai Osamu, her partner on the case, and a few others. She tried to guess who would be inside but sucked with names. Junichiro could be there as well. Who else worked there? Kunikida, Atsushi, and a female doctor and… Whatever. It didn't matter. Dazai called in this morning. Well, that ruined her weekend. But the case was getting interesting. She didn't bother to knock. There were only two people inside.

Dazai was sitting on a couch leisurely, a tug of a smile on his face. The tall blonde was standing next to him, lecturing him with such a speed of a tongue Saskia could barely understand. The lecturing wasn't bothering Dazai in the slightest, he was taking it all in and letting it out right out. It went right through him as the wind through a tree. It just amused him a tad and nothing more. He wasn't moved but went along with it. It's not that her arrival had bothered either of them. They went on for another couple of moments before turning their attention to her.

"You are here," said Kunikida. He straightened his posture and his suit as if she didn't witness what had been transpiring here for some time. She raised a peace sign in response. She came just as she was asked to. Let's not pretend she had a variety of choices here.

"Saskia-chan!" Dazai perked up, eager to have someone other than Kunikida.

"What's new?" Blok asked immediately. There was little patience left in her for Dazai's nonsense. He would try to use her to get away from his responsibilities again. He would try to get on her nerves again. It was a game for him. She didn't want to play.

"Not much. I was attacked," Dazai said nonchalantly. Her attention was on him. He was so eerily calm about being attacked.

"What? When?" Saskia questioned. She walked to him and sat beside him, watching his face. But there was no worry or fear in his eyes. He was a tiny bit thrilled even. There was that mischievous glint in his eyes she never appreciated. The gears had already turned in his head, and Dazai had a plan ready.

"Last night," he replied with a passive expression on his face. Their eyes met. His were brown and filled with insatiable curiosity. Hers were green and burning with subtle anger.

"Why didn't you call me?" she hissed at him. As if she could scare him into submission. Osamu chuckled; his eyes were laughing.

"What would you do?" he tilted his head in question. Saskia didn't have a proper answer. There was no doubt in her mind that she would turn her car around to help whoever was asking for help… But this was Dazai…

"Describe your attacker," she said sternly, moving from the idea of having to save him herself. Dazai was here and no more harmed than he usually was. She was relieved he didn't call her last night. "We can—"

"Saskia-chan, you are thinking like a cop," Dazai mused and placed his hand on top of hers to still her. He paused thoughtfully, purposefully. Before Saskia questioned his unfitting silence, the door of the office opened again. Junichiro stepped inside with a girl not much younger than him. Blok looked at the boy she hadn't seen in a good while and found absolutely nothing to say.

"Right on time," Dazai spoke. Blok tensed after his words. The gears had already turned in his head. Dazai had a plan. She would have no option but to follow it. Because despite everything Dazai was — or was pretending to be or wanted to be — one undeniable thing about him is his mind. He was brilliant. Twisted, perhaps, and _wickedly_ smart. Dazai had already blackmailed, threatened and manipulated her, but he wasn't wrong about anything yet. She sighed in defeat.

"Tanizaki," Kunikida said with a nod. "Come with."

Tanizaki offered a shy smile to Saskia. She reciprocated and offered a wave of her hand in greeting. The two of them went inside the president's office. She remembered it well. Doppo had to dig for the keys. Interesting, Saskia noted, watching Kunikida opening the door to the president's office. Her train of thought was rudely interrupted.

"You are that detective my brother works with?" the girl asked. Saskia leaned back a bit at the accusation. _Brother? Tanizaki has a sister?_ The warmth from Dazai's hand on top of her disappeared as he got up from the couch.

"Yeah," Blok meekly confirmed. The girl had a power stance anyone could be jealous of. With jet-black hair and a beauty mark under her left eye, she looked nothing like Junichiro. Even their body language didn't match. Tanizaki was very diffident compared to his sister.

"I'm Junichiro's sister," she said.

Detective Blok didn't understand the point behind her words. _That you sure are. _She could figure out the relationship between the two on her own.

"Then your ability is to sense lies?" the girl questioned her again. Saskia just nodded timidly. Dazai offered her a hand to help her stand up. She reached out for his hand before she even thought about the action. Yet she never came to regret it.

"So, if I said last night brother and I did…" The Tanizaki girl continued to talk. And what she said may never be repeated by anyone. Saskia wouldn't wish for something like this to reach anyone's ear. Except maybe her enemy.

Blok looked at their touching hands. Dazai's hand holding hers almost like a gentleman. Her eyes travelled up to the bandaged that ended just above his wrist. She never questioned those. Even in the bar, when they were drinking and having a few laughs, she never asked him about the bandages. And she never would. Green eyes met the familiar reddish-brown. She understood how deliberate he was with every move. Dazai Osamu wasn't a gentleman. He was a thief. He stole a moment from someone else.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Blok turned her head to look at the girl. Junichiro's sister didn't look very pleased.

"Dazai-san," the girl said and stuck out her tongue. Dazai stuck out his tongue in response. And Saskia was lost in the situation but retracted her hand from the hold of the nullifier. The mocking soon ceased, but Saskia was still catching up with the moment that transpired.

"My name's Naomi," Tanizaki said with a smile.

"Just Saskia," Blok returned.

* * *

She never thought herself to be just as annoying as Dazai was to her. But soon only the two of them were still engaged in the conversation. Tanizaki siblings politely retreated from the battlefield as the arguing got louder. Kunikida seemed relieved someone was picking up the slacker that Dazai was and went on with his business. He was typing something on his computer but never once bothered to intervene in the conversation between Blok and his partner.

"Really?" Blok questioned, doubting every word Dazai had been spilling. "You were the target, but I get supervision?" She huffed and puffed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Whatever his ability is," Dazai replied, sounding exasperated, "it doesn't work me. But it would work on you."

"You didn't see him?" she crossed her arms in annoyance. Her partner on this case was driving her up the wall. He refused to share anything of value, demanded she trusted him and then… _You can't be angry with him. _Dazai still helped her when he didn't have to. She never offered him any sort of kindness as payback.

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head. Saskia gritted her teeth. This was getting on her nerves more than she was willing to admit.

"Why Junichiro?" she asked instead. But her voice betrayed the anger and anguish she felt. It sounded as if she was upset with Tanizaki more than with Dazai.

"He can be with you at work without being suspicious," Osamu explained needlessly. He too sounded irritated but what the reason was for it. Saskia could only guess to be her behaviour. "And he can be anywhere else with you without being seen."

That's as much as he offered for an explanation. Blok wasn't satisfied with the answers she was given. There were still too many questions. Saskia wasn't subtle with the glares and scoffing thrown Dazai's way. After a few moments of staring each other down, Dazai sighed as if exhausted and told her with a gesture to follow him. She refused to. That made Osamu stop in his tracks and turn around. He looked surprised. Just for a moment that could be missed in a blink, he was surprised she refused to follow him.

"Whatever," the woman spat. Her steps were loud and heavy. She was boiling with anger and frustration. "I do as you say, and maybe we'll finally catch the guy. And then I can go back to living my life and doing my actual job." Her voice was laced with venom. But as her hand touched the doorknob, Dazai's voice stopped her from leaving.

"Working with Matsukata?" he asked. Saskia had known enough about Dazai Osamu to recognize when he was mocking her. Just as he was pulling on her strings by using an unfitting honorific or when he was officially addressing her as a sign of twisted respect, she knew he was mocking her. She never answered, her halted motion was answer enough. The typing on the computer stopped. The room was deadly silent.

Dazai sighed theatrically. "What little but truthful and kind thing he said for you to change your mind about him?"

"Fuck off, Dazai Osamu," Blok spat before leaving. The walls of the office shook as the door was slammed shut. Kunikida Doppo took off his glasses and started to wipe them. He'd comment on the whole situation that escalated. But he had done so already.


	16. Dull

Saskia got inside her car with a slam of the door. She immediately regretted her actions and apologized to the car. Her anger was simmering down. Not seeing Dazai before her eyes and not hearing his mocking voice was helping more than she thought. He was an exceptional bastard. He didn't tell her something, she felt it. And he continuously refused to disclose it. How is she supposed to trust him then? The rev of the engine soothed her mind further.

Yet Dazai never left her thoughts. Her mind was constantly going back to the incident inside ADA office. He said he was attacked by a gifted. Fortunately for them, Dazai's ability only neutralizes and does no harm. She wondered what kind of a person he would become if he could cause harm with his ability. _Would he leave Port Mafia then?_ And she had no doubt Dazai had a plan on how to catch his attacker. But he didn't disclose that plan to her. The car stopped before a red , what is she supposed to do? Patiently wait for the story to unfold? Or worse, waiting for Dazai to give her commands? And Dazai dared to bring Tanizaki into it too. She sneered at his irresponsibility. _The kid is gifted but that doesn't excuse —_

"It's green," Junichiro said. Saskia jumped in her seat, restrained from hitting the roof by the seatbelt, yet accidentally pushing on the horn.

"What the fuck, Junichiro!" she shouted despite being startled near half-to-death. The driver's instincts kicked in first. Her foot pressed on the gas pedal, and the vehicle moved without creating a line of annoyed drivers. But Saskia could feel her heart in her feet and pressing on the pedals.

"Sorry, sorry!" Junichiro started to frantically apologize. She didn't spare him a glance, she couldn't. The car made a sharp and unplanned turn. Blok parked the car in the nearest lot to have a moment to calm down. She dropped her head on the wheel and started to count her breaths. The pounding in her chest barely subsided. Tanizaki chose the right moment to reveal his presence, but it didn't excuse her frightened state.

"I didn't mean to," Junichiro said. He was sincere with his words. "I'm sorry! I thought you knew!"

The woman sighed but not from pain. That's exactly what Dazai meant when he said Junichiro could be unnoticeable. What a way to make the introductions happen. How meticulous. But she couldn't call it cruelty. Merely a vicious prank. If that was his way of getting back at her, he had done an incredible job. Harmless enough, but she doubted she'd forget about the incident for a while.

"So, you turn invisible?" she asked passively, slowly calming down.

"No," he shook his head. "I project illusions." She lifted her head and turned to look at him. There were ambers of anger burning in her eyes. Someone broke into her car. Whether it was Junichiro himself or Dazai mattered little.

"S-sorry," Junichiro said, averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He was sincere even now. And Saskia was angry. But she couldn't be angry with Junichiro. She doubted it was his idea to do what he did. She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car. Junichiro didn't follow.

"Come," Blok beckoned, "I'm sure you are hungry too."

"Okay," the young man replied.

"You are not staying with me, are you?" she asked absentmindedly. It was a question she thought worth asking to fill in the rift between them. Dazai never once stayed at her place despite knowing the mafia was watching her. Mori showed his face to her for whatever reason but if they wanted her dead, she would be one of the recent bodies found. She would be given a case number and given either to Ueda or Matsukata. But she was still alive and well and watched. _Port Mafia would watch the gifted whose files were stolen. _She held no doubt anymore.

"No!" Junichiro answered in a panic voice. His eyes were wide and held an expression of shock. He even blushed a bit. Saskia chuckled in amusement. She could understand why Dazai was so childish at times with his colleagues. Pushing people like this was certainly entertaining. She felt disgusted by the thought.

They didn't talk much. She had so many questions and yet none that she could voice. If Saskia could understand one thing about Dazai: he wouldn't simply give her Junichiro on a silver platter to answer all the questions. In fact, she barely understood why he gave her Junichiro at all. If it was her safety he was worried about, they were covered. The attacker's ability didn't work on Dazai — no ability did — and Saskia believed herself to be able to throw a mean punch. And there was that gun Kunikida issued her with that precise purpose. He said it was a sign of their trust. Saskia's mood turned sour. Yet her mind was on Dazai's case again. That prank in the car already proven Tanizaki was just a pawn just as she was. She'd blame it on her anger and frustrations and how Dazai is so impossible to comprehend. He could manage to be pleasant and trustworthy. He could have easily won her over. He did so at the bar. At least he did it the first time. But then he stopped wearing one mask and put on the other. And she couldn't understand what happened and why and what was his goal. Because he never intended her to know. He didn't play her like a fiddle. Dazai Osamu was conducting an orchestra, and she didn't know what instrument she was.

"Are you thinking about Dazai-san?" Junichiro asked, lowering his eyes as if in shame. Saskia gave him a questioning look. As if it was a hard guess. He had seen her behaviour in the car. He heard the beginning of their argument. "You look angry," he explained awkwardly before taking a bite from his plate. The woman scoffed with amusement. Anger wasn't covering the range of emotion she felt. It was a carpet term for that. She opened her mouth to explain herself. Only a huff of air came out as a response. She never was gifted with words and it wasn't about to change now. Instead, she turned to eating her soup. Talking about how she felt or what she thoughts wasn't going to change anything for the better.

"Hor shomeone," she said chewing. Noticing the expression of unease on Tanizaki's face, she decided to shut her mouth, chew and be a decent human being with manners. "For someone so dull he certainly is frustrating," Saskia said.

"Dull?" Junichiro asked as if unsure what he heard. It took a few moments for him to click with what had been said. And then he laughed awkwardly. "That's — that's something to call Dazai-san."

She spared him a grin. It wasn't genuine and it didn't last long. But it did the job. They both sunk back into silence. Dazai Osamu is an exceedingly dull man, she thought. She remembered how he figured her out during the mock exam in the agency. How he figured out her ability without having to meet her personally. His mind was truly something else. Not that she meant it to be a positive thing. He was an old well: dark and deep and no one knew exactly how far it was going. Dazai Osamu could play anyone, anytime. He made Kunikida act foolishly in a coffee shop and he made Tanizaki lie to her. He played them all. He took her to dinner with them. He let her believe in forming a bond of sorts even if temporarily. He gave her his word once to fulfill a request for complete and utter honesty. He said he wouldn't give her to the mafia easily. He asked her to trust him. It was a simple and human request so unfitting of a man like Dazai Osamu. He asked her to trust him without if or buts or exchanging favours. He asked to take a leap of faith. She didn't. Perhaps he was right then to behave the way he was. Perhaps he was right to keep things from her. if he understood how much she was wary of him, it would make sense for him to retaliate in such a manner. The gun Kunikida gave her was heavy and of cold metal. What did she give in return? A hissy fit in the office. Dazai's behaviour just may be her fault.

For Dazai Osamu was never was wrong. He was the one who suspected Matsukata. He went with her grocery shopping after encountering Mori. He came to the bar she chose and offered an ear and assistance. She never did thank him for it. She'd like to think a drink she shared with him was payment enough. She didn't believe that thought for a moment.

She remembered the look Dazai had in the bar. That moment when there was nothing on his face written. The moment between changing masks when he was looking at his drink but not seeing. She wished to be able to understand even a fraction of his mind someday. She drowned that desire immediately. There will be no _someday._ This will end eventually with them either winning or losing. Yet she couldn't piece together his actions right now. Dazai only made sense to her in retrospective and periodically. Dazai knew exactly how to pull the strings. A master puppeteer. She reminded herself how she shouldn't mistake him for his mask. After all, Dazai Osamu didn't do kind. And she wasn't doing it either. He had played her so harmonically.

The spoon fell on the table with a dull sound. "Dazai Osamu is an exceedingly dull man," Saskia mumbled to herself. The realization felt suffocating, chocking her belief in herself. _Because he knows what's going to happen and can never live in the moment. _Her hands dropped on the table with a louder sound."What is that idiot planning?" she asked, hissing in anger and frustration. If she disturbed Tanizaki with her behaviour, it was a thought too momentary in her mind to be registered.

* * *

_Dazai was getting a bit impatient. The newspapers were dull. They are a source of information — often useless information — and not a source of entertainment. Yet he couldn't just get up and leave. That would make his efforts and waiting time spent here be a waste. His fingers drummed on the surface of the polished table. Perhaps another hour would do it. _

_"You've been waiting for me," the man said from behind. "How kind."_

_Dazai smirked. Familiar voice. He had heard it before. He was not wrong. Was he ever? His new companion walked around the booth and sat opposite of him. Kind, was it? Funny._

_"So, you are the one we've been looking for all along," Dazai said, placing his elbows on the table. He placed his head in his hands to cue the man in front of him to start talking. _

_"Then you have found me," the man said with a rueful smile. At least, it seemed so to Dazai. _

_"There are more people looking for you," Osamu said, disinterested. "Old friends, I assume."_

_The man tensed. He recoiled back in his seat and his eyes filled with primal terror. But it was only for a moment. The epiphany dawned on him soon. Dazai wasn't done making up his mind. He could take him and feed him to the dogs as was agreed previously. But he didn't. Not yet. He wanted to know the story hoping it was a good story to hear. _

_"You are not here to turn me in," the man spoke. He tried to control his voice and not showcase the fear he felt just moments ago. He almost failed. And Dazai noticed that. "Don't turn me in. Not to them. Kill me if you want to, but don't feed me to them."_

_"The Contemporary," Dazai recalled. "You ran away. You joined mafia. Why run away from them? Because you became aware of something, no, someone special. And you needed to get to them."_

_The man smiled. It was the same smile as before. Rueful. "I had to. And knowing how foolish it was, I wouldn't do it otherwise. She exists. She exists, and her power is something else."_

_Dazai tilted his head. If that was his way of putting it, he would agree with that. She was something else. Nothing positive he could mean by that, however. _

_"I understand why you were the one close to her," the man continued talking. That smile never left his face. Dazai couldn't understand it. "You nullify her ability. You are immune to her ability."_

_Osamu offered a shrug in reply. He was impenetrable to all abilities. This man's included. What was his name again? Lev. Leo. Tolstoy._

_"Just because of that, I wish to kill you myself," Lev said. "But I need you just as you need me."_

_Dazai smiled at that. This man liked to think he had some power in this situation. Amusing, truly. "You are mistaken," he said with a shake of his head, "I don't need you. I just need to turn you in."_

_"Then you should do it now. The moment I leave this place, I can become someone else. Anyone."_

_"Important questions first," Dazai said. "Why do you want Saskia?"_

_"I didn't," Lev replied. "Not at first. I just wanted to get to her. But now, I'm afraid, I'm not the one who wants her."_

_"The Contemporary," Osamu sighed. It all became much clearer now. Tolstoy launched forward, laying himself on the table, reaching out to Dazai but never touching him. Dazai never reacted. _

_"They will take her," Lev said, "and a bunch of other ability users."_

_"They didn't lie when they said they had no intentions operating in Japan," Dazai recalled. Saskia would have mentioned something as important as that. _

_"They don't want this city or this island," Lev shook his head. "But ability users? Absolutely. And they have the means to do so."_

_Dazai didn't say anything to that, sustaining expectant pause. _

_"Kill me," Tolstoy said. "Kill me and give my rotting corpse to them if it pleases you," he said, teeth grinding, "but don't let them take me, and more importantly, her alive."_


	17. Speak the truth

Saskia closed the door to her apartment and pulled out her phone to see there was a missed call from the Captain. And a voice mail. Just great. She'd call him back. But in a few moments. She walked inside the apartment, slugging around, feeling exhausted. A part of her exhausting had been her own fault. Saskia wondered to the window of her apartment. She never cared for the view but tonight she pulled the curtains closed. The lights were never turned on. She'd probably do the same after today's passionate arguing, but exhaustion had been catching up with her more and more. Mental, physical, emotional, you name it. Every part of her — visible or perceived — was exhausted beyond endurance.

It wasn't much. There wasn't much she could do. But there was an option of trusting Dazai with his plan. Without if or buts or exchanging favours. Saskia sighed. As if she was left with a choice here. No point of marinating in those feelings.

"I need to warn the Captain about taking Tanizaki for a few days," she mumbled to herself. It was going to be an eventful couple of days.

* * *

It should have made her feel better – the presence of another human being. The presence of someone she knew, of someone who was just like her and was involved in the same mess. But it didn't. Familiarity Tanizaki unwittingly offered did nothing to soothe her mind. He was just as silent and sulked as she was. There wasn't much they could talk about without bringing up ADA and the recent mess. Not to mention Junichiro witnessed the beginning of the argument she had with Dazai; a topic neither wanted to bring up. Needless to say, it was a silent and tense ride to work.

"We should behave normally," Saskia said before either of them got out of the car. "Ueda is already worried about me, and Matsukata can be downright intrusive. If your skill can put permanent smiles on our faces that would be great."

"I-It can't."

"I was trying to be funny, nevermind. Let's go, kid."

They got out of the car. Saskia felt the heavy burden of the world upon her shoulders. This wasn't quite right. She should be the one taking care of him. Perhaps her skill isn't combative but letting herself be protected by a teenager wasn't feeling right either. And at the very least she could try and make life a little easier for him by being a better and bigger person. She waited for Junichiro to catch up with her so she could ruffle his hair.

"Thanks, kid," she said fondly. Tanizaki bashfully smiled, too shy to bask in praise in affection, looking more confused by it than anything.

"Yo!" Ueda's voice called out for them from behind. Both stopped, noting there were no other people around to shout at, and turned around. Ueda was following behind with a tray of coffee cups. "Yo, Blok!" Ueda called out again. "Morning, Tanizaki," he said when he came closer. "Having a new partner already?"

Saskia scowled. "How do you get to know so soon?"

"It's the privilege of being Captain's drinking buddy." Her frown deepened. Matsukata had broken off their partnership. Well, it wasn't as simple as that. He just stated he was comfortable in doing his job on his now. The problem was that she had heard it from the Captain and not Matsukata himself. He could have told her beforehand. He could have, he had a chance to but didn't. And it left an ashburn mark on Saskia's sense of pride.

"Thanks," she said as she took a cup of coffee from Ueda's tray. She took a sip from it before he could even open his mouth in protest.

"It wasn't for you, ya know," he scolded playfully.

"It's a privilege of not being Captain's drinking buddy," Blok shrugged.

"I was actually planning on talking to you about that," Ueda spoke cautiously.

"I am not drinking with you."

"Well, you should," Hiroto countered. "Homicide burns out people."

"Cool," Blok snickered. This was getting ridiculous. A piece of advice no one asked for. It may be coming from a place of concern and care, but it didn't negate the issue of having to listen to those words. What's more, she must have looked like she needed advice.

"Alright, I'll leave to your devices," Ueda said awkwardly. Saskia and Tanizaki respectfully nodded in acknowledgment. She pulled the youngling closer to her side when they walked inside the station. Matsuakta was up early and about, typing away at his computer. As much as Saskia wanted to soothe her wounded ego, she decided to let it go. They were no longer partners.

* * *

When it rains, it pours. And when the sky starts to fall down, the floor of heaven comes crashing down. The exhausting she had felt the night before never was negated. Her nights were restless. Saskia did her best to keep her eyes open and face expression concern, but it was far from easy.

"I understand," she said, mustering all her politeness and respect for human condition. "But it hasn't been twenty-four hours yet. He is a legal adult. I'm sure your son is… simply being an irresponsible adult."

The woman sure didn't look pleased with the answer. Yet there wasn't anything Blok could do for her outside of comfort. _That_ is what she had been failing at, not being a professional. She failed to provide human compassion. She was coming to her limits when it came to human condition. It was getting awfully tiring. She had too much on her plate and yet she decided to bite more than she could chew too.

"I'll give you a deal," Saskia said with patience running thin. "If tomorrow morning he still hasn't come home, we'll open a missing person case." That was enough to pacify the woman. Somewhat. They both stood up and bowed to each other as a display of respect. Saskia had no respect for the woman, however. The moment the distressed mother was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair with a groan of annoyance. Enervation. Suddenly, Dazai's word regarding taking all the vacation time she could made perfect sense. As if the bastard could see into the future.

Saskia looked for Tanizaki but he wasn't near her workplace. No big deal, but an interesting development. Anyhow, it was past noon. A good time as any time to get some coffee and a peace of mind.

"Detective Blok will be going for coffee." Saskia didn't shout but made her voice carry through the small homicide department. Ueda raised his head and stopped typing. "Our coffee is awful, don't even start, Ueda."

"Then get me some, too," Hiroto threw her way.

"I'm sorry, but my memory tells me someone called our local coffee good."

"I'll come with," Tanizaki offered himself up. Blok turned around, startled by Junichiro's appearance. Her surprise very quickly matched the young man's expression of concern.

"Sit tight, kid," she said automatically, placing a hand on his shoulder. There were too many negative emotions boiling inside her. She wanted and needed a few moments alone. Making him watch another outburst wasn't in her to-do list.

"No," he whispered. "Something's wrong." They feigned to have a friendly chat amidst themselves as Junichiro broke the news. Kunikida had called and asked about his partner. No one in the agency had seen or heard of Dazai since yesterday. Dazai had been missing, which wouldn't be concerning if he wasn't attacked less than 72 hours ago.

"It's just coffee, a couple of blocks down." Her words had no effect whatsoever. "Give me Kunikida's number."

The idea of Dazai missing didn't frighten her. It was, after all, Dazai Osamu. So, when Saskia left the precinct, there wasn't a thought in her mind that something was off. She started to walk down the block, unaccompanied, taking out her phone. A few taps, and the location of Dazai's phone started to download.

The idea of Dazai missing didn't frighten Saskia. She wasn't surprised to see that his phone was located in that whole-in-the-wall pub. She wasn't scared for him; it merely piqued her interest as to why Dazai would return to a place where he was attacked. More so, it was barely past noon. Dazai is quite the unspeakable man, but that was too much even for him. Imagining Dazai passed out drunk was amusing but unfitting. He didn't seem like a drunk. Sighing, Blok took the earplugs and called the number Tanizaki gave her.

"Kunikida," came from the other end of the line.

"Saskia," the woman said curtly. "I know Dazai's location."

"Where is that bandage-wasting machine?!"

She named the address. And she never thought of the complications that would follow that.

"May I ask, how do you know that?" Kunikida asked. His tone reserved, weighted. Saskia should have expected this question coming but didn't. She relented from coming inside the busying coffee shop while on the line.

"I'm tracing his phone, have been for some time," was her nonchalant response. The silence on the other end wasn't long, but it told her everything she needed to know. Kunikida was a man of ideals. "Judging me?"

"I would," he said honestly, "but not when it comes to Dazai. I'll check the location and let you know."

"I'll be at work by that time. Text me."

"Roger."

When she returned, the feeling of something heavy on her chest struck her harder than she anticipated. The idea of Dazai missing didn't frighten her as much as it made her worry about what to come. Why would Dazai go to the pub alone after he was attacked there? Blok knew better than most that criminals did come back to the crime scene. Yet Dazai wouldn't be so cocky and stupid as to try and catch the deviant alone. But he would go there if he had something to gain.

"What got you sulking this time?" asked Matsukata, sounding too chirpy. The sudden question pulled her out of her thoughts. Her eyes met his smile. She didn't like it.

"People," the woman answered honestly, returning to her previous task. Even from the corner of her eyes, there was no mistaking the reaction Matsukata's appearance had on Junichiro. He was also taken by surprise.

"For what it's worth," Satoru spoke again, much less chirpy this time, "I'm sorry." It was coming from the heart.

"It's fine," Saskia replied. It was far too bitter to be acceptable, to be neutral. But before they could get into this discussion, her phone went off again. "Excuse me." That too sounded hostile. She got up from her desk and excused herself for a moment. There wasn't any need for it except to get away from Matsukata's attention. But the message on the screen didn't bear any good news. Dazai wasn't there. Kunikida only found his forgotten phone. It wasn't the idea of Dazai going AWOL that shook her to the core, it's the possibilities it brought with it. She didn't' have to check the history location to understand that the phone probably was left there since last night.

Inside the women's bathroom, she dialed Kunikida again. This was no conversation to have over text. Despite herself, despite wanting a peace of mind, she held her gaze against the reflection in the mirror.

"What do you know?" she asked the moment a distinct _click _was heard. Kunikida picked up.

"He was there yesterday with someone. A man. Left his phone before leaving."

"Description?"

"Nothing to go off from."

She didn't say anything. Looking deep into her own eyes, reflected in the bathroom mirror, she asked a question she feared the answer too.

"You were the one who approved Dazai's entrance exam," Saskia spoke slowly. "And you are his partner. Tell me, Kunikida, what are the chances an idiot like him would leave his phone in a pub he was previously attacked near, after meeting with someone?"

"I'll get Ranpo," the man said instead. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Whoever took him, it was the person he met up with. They can't switch skins with him, so it means they want something else."

"You mean they want you."

"My ego is inflated, I know, but wouldn't it make sense? He was attacked on the night he spent with _me_ in the pub."

"Tanizaki is to remain by your side no matter what. I'll also get —"

"Sure," Saskia lied. "I need to go now. Text me." The conversation ended there. Forcefully _she_ ended it. All there was to know was already known. First things first: she needed to do is to lose Junichiro from her tail. If someone was trying to get her attention, they got it now. There was no reason to endanger anyone else for her sake. If they took a liking to that pub, she would go there again. Dazai wasn't taken because of who he was but of who he was associating with. And recently he had only been associating with her. She'd kick the doors of the bathroom stalls. She'd throw something in that big mirror to make it crack. But that would fix nothing, it would _help _no one. Taking a few moments to collect herself again, she walked out to return to her workplace.

"… Nothing like that," she heard Junichiro talking with Matsukata. The younger man looked awkward during the conversation. He didn't want to seem rude, Blok concluded.

"It was good while it lasted," Matsukata spoke with a faint smile. "But everything has an expiration date. Even partnerships. Right, Saskia?"

The two had finally directed their attention to her. The woman shrugged nonchalantly. What Matsukata did was rude, however, she couldn't remain bitter forever. Plus, there were many other problems to take off right now. Let's strip away emotions that were doing nothing but aggravate and distract her.

"Junichiro, give us a moment, please," Saskia asked softly. By the end of today, he needed to be away from her. That was something she'd have trouble accomplishing. Tanizaki would follow the orders from the agency before her own, no doubt about that. But this little favour he granted without having to be asked twice.

"I'm sorry," Satoru said when they were left alone. He was genuine. It didn't soften the blow. But then bowed before her. "I am very grateful for your help. You were a great partner." And once again, he was honest. When he straightened his posture, he didn't smile. His expression was terribly blank. "Your power is something else, Saskia." She visibly recoiled from those words. They came out of nowhere. They struck a chord no one supposed to know how to play.

"Weird, but I'll take it," she shrugged the comment off and offered a handshake. Matsukata hesitated for a moment as if taken by surprise. It was but a moment of hesitation, but Blok noticed. And he noticed that she noticed. And then he smiled.

"For what it's worth," he said, shaking her hand, "I, Matsukata Satoru, was happy to get to know you."

The pain was so sudden. Saskia tightened her grip on his hand unconsciously. Satoru wasn't phased. That smile never changed. He didn't even blink.

_.The shapeshifter stole profiles on potential gifted form the Mafia_

_.There was a rat in the poilce _

_".I looked at your file"_

_.Public service worker_

_".I didn't mean to interrupt"_

_.Never once replied to his own name_

He let go of her hand. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Those were not the words that hurt her again. Those were not the things he lied about. Saskia stood paralyzed by fear and pain. Satoru was smiling all the same. _What can you do here? He is Matsukata Satoru to everyone else here. _


	18. Standstill

"Saskia?" Tanizaki asked with concern as he pulled at the sleeve of her jacket. She couldn't tell if it was fear or shock that paralyzed her. Or were those her frantic thoughts that pulled out her of the reality. Thoughts on how to deal with this situation. How to deal with minimal damage.

"Yes?" she finally replied to her own name, albeit still filling dazed.

"What happened?" Junichiro whispered. Saskia took a deep breath. She had no doubt he'd believe her. If she were to whisper to him that she knew exactly who the shapeshifter was, Junichiro would believe her. But she had no clue what to do next. Matsukata — whatever his real name was — was safe here. Untouchable, even. And he knew that. But there was also something he wanted desperately. She could only speculate about what it truly was. Sending Tyutchev here like a mad dog following a scent would be madness. Port Mafia had already once blown up a station. And the agency was busy trying to find Dazai.

"Dazai," Blok spoke. It wasn't an answer for Tanizaki. Merely her voicing her own epiphany. "I'm worried about Dazai." The lie came out so freely. "Let's get back to work." It was a strange feeling of calm that overwhelmed her at that moment. It wasn't a comfortable or comforting feeling, yet she couldn't help or stop it.

"I'm sure he'll be alright," Junichiro said. That must have been his attempt to soothe her, a gesture of politeness and human kindness. But she didn't one anymore. She had found it herself. Matsukata wanted something so desperately he talked with Dazai.

"I'm sure he will be," Blok agreed carelessly. This feeling of calm that washed over her suddenly wasn't that of comfort or confidence or even positivism. The origin of her tranquility was that of arrogance. Matsukata had made a horrible mistake in choosing Dazai as any form of ally.

"Huh, well, that's Dazai for you," Junichiro awkwardly added as they took place behind their respective workstations. "Despite his suicide attempts, he is perfectly healthy. True to what he says."

"Hmm?" It was more of an obligatory way to continue the conversation, a way to distract the young man from the paleness of her face he witnessed a few minutes before. Whatever stream of consciousness suddenly hit Tanizaki, she was willing to endure it. Anything better than Dazai's consciousness.

"Every ability user has something wrong with them deep inside."

"I can how that's true in his case," Saskia said absentmindedly. "But you seem pretty normal to me, Junichiro."

"Huh, thanks, Saskia. Umm, I think you are pretty normal too."

It felt wrong to feel so unbothered by the presence of what Saskia decided to be a monster. Matsukata Satoru, the skin of the recent victim of the shapeshifter, was a dressed-up neat monster. Thinking of him as a human being was too considerate, too kind. And yet, the monsters didn't exist. Not in this world. The shadows that haunt you at night are that of trees in the forest. It's not about the shadows their branches cast, but what can be hiding behind a tree. Often, a fellow human. But as the monster's eyes, the ones that looked exactly like Satoru's, were watching her holding no fear.

"Alright," Matsukata said, standing up from the desk. "I'm done for today."

Saskia scoffed listening to something truthful. "Got a hot date?" she asked flashing a smile. Outside of the walls of the precinct, Matsukata was a free-range prey. Yet she also understood she couldn't let him roam free.

"Yes," Satoru nodded. And then he said when and where. It was convoluted enough for someone like Tanizaki to not understand. But every cop knows of places like those. Places where no decent folks went, and no decent activities were performed. You don't name those places; you speak about what's around them. And that's all she needed to know about Dazai's whereabouts, about what Matsukata wanted. It made sense he wanted her. But if he wanted to become her, he could have done so long ago.

"TMI, Matsukata, TMI," Blok replied waving the man off. The monster that was wearing human skin. This was a comforting thought; it was even a comfortable thought. To think of him as nothing but a mad beast. She simply could not allow herself to feel anything but disgust and resentment towards him. There weren't many places this road could lead.

"Going to say here long?" he asked.

"No, we'll leave soon. Be seeing you."

"Be seeing you, Saskia."

It was the waiting that was crushing down on her. She had to be careful about her timing and her actions as to not throw Tanizaki off. He would question her and, if he didn't listen to her, he'd call up the agency. And Saskia would give anything but not deal with a bunch of ability users. The strength is in numbers. The numbers were hazardous. Matsukata got desperate once and attacked Dazai. If not for his ability, there'd be another corpse and they'd come to nothing again. The chameleon would change colours, and they would have to play the whole find-ten-differences game again. But if she was honest, it was all about having a little more control. Even the illusion of control. A semblance of power over the situation. She had none. The moment she signed that contract, all she had was Dazai's manipulations, intrusions, lack of control over her own life. Despite every misfortune Dazai Osamu had brought into her life, she couldn't deny him this final thing of catching the man they've been looking for. A man like Dazai Osamu did not forget his phone in some hole-in-the-wall pub and mysteriously disappear. And while she wouldn't trust him with money, driving or any other normal task suited for any adult human, she could trust him on this one thing: finishing what he started.

* * *

"That's not the way to your place," Junichirio correctly observed. He was a smart young man worthy of being a member of the Armed Detective Agency. But, as of this moment, Blok didn't find it in herself to be appreciative of those wondrous qualities. "Where are we going?" he asked. Saskia contemplated the dances she could do around this question. But neither were worthy enough of performing. Tanizaki deserved a grain of truth.

"I have a meeting," she said, "and I know you can't leave me. Kunikida must have issued an order after out phone call."

"Yes," he confirmed.

"See? Please, bear with me."

But there was no deceiving the outside world. Tanizaki watched as the scenery changed, shifted to a less populated, less city-picturesque, forming that of a desolate corner of Yokohama. Every city had those corners where nothing good ever happened. Saskia knew they were heading to one such place.

"Hey, Junichiro," she started to speak again. The gravel under the tired made the vehicle jump a bit. The atmosphere started to change. She'd be guessing but probably be correct: Tanizaki started to realize where they were heading.

"Yes?" She heard the doubt in his voice. She heard the readiness to stop her. With one hand on the wheel, she reached for handcuffs. The department might not appreciate her taking those, but it was for the greater good of Junichiro.

"I've made an interesting discovery," she said as the car slowed down. "I can hear illusions with my ability. So, now that you've confirmed who you are, I know that it's you I'm chaining." Years of practicing had made it quick and easy. Blok grabbed Tanizaki's hand and cuffed him to the wheel. The young man struggled against the cold metal only once.

"I'll apologize to you as many times as you want after," she said. "But give me five minutes before calling Kunikida." She didn't wait for an answer. Locking the car, Saskia started to walk in the direction of the canal. It was a hot date, so it had to be romantic one way or another. And water always had the appeal. At least, that's what Matsukata said. It was easier to imagine doing something like this back at the station where it felt safe and right. That eerie feeling of calm vanished. It wasn't very rational, she knew, but just as much as was aware of her actions, she knew there wasn't a place for anyone else. Dazai would let the others know, he would find a way. But he wanted her here and alone. And if he got her here to die, she'd take him with her.

"Didn't think you'd come so soon," Matsukata's voice greeted her before he even appeared in sight.

"Hard to pass on such invitation," she bit back. It was oddly calm all around. Tolstoy was patiently waiting for her near the bed of water, melancholically staring ahead. Too human. Saskia reached for the gun Kunikida gave her. He did say it was a sign of trust as well as her protection. No better moment to exercise those. Dazai was sitting on the ground, hand behind his back and a muffler in his mouth. Matsukata Satoru turned around to look at her.

"Why the mouthpiece?" Saskia pointed at Dazai with the gun.

"He talks a lot," came a rueful reply. "I believe that's why you came. For him. I'm disappointed in your choices of people."

"I'll give a lot more reasons to be disappointed with my choices. Why did you want to meet me?"

"Why do you think that is?" he asked. "When I said I was Matsukata Satoru, I triggered your ability. Why's that?"

"What do you want?" Blok groaned. "You didn't go through all the trouble just to meet me."

"And if I did? Aren't you a little bit curious? I look like him. I can walk and talk like him too."

"Yeah, I guess you can. He was the rat, right? That's how you got to know him in the first place."

"Yes. Getting to him was problematic. Takara was collateral damage."

"You buried her? I don't know if it's respectful or creepy."

"You haven't seen my ability in action. The sight is so gruesome it drove her poor husband to suicide. That, or maybe it was the realization of what had happened. As for the burial, I am no monster. She happened to be nearby when I was on the run. So, I followed her home. A perfect victim. Unsuspecting. Unrelated. On paper. Her husband couldn't afford the luxurious house they were living in, not alone, that is. Still, she wasn't the worst person walking upon this rotten soil. So, I buried her. I'm not a murderer, much less a monster."

"You just confessed to killing two people," the woman scoffed.

"No," Matsukata shook his head. A smile was slowly growing on his face. From being a shadow of joy, it morphed into that of gleeful pride. "Murder implies intention, Blok Alexandra! You should know that!"

"Are you clinging onto semantics?"

"That's what the law says. Manslaughter. Do you really think I wanted to kill people? I didn't. I still don't. But my ability leaves me no choice. And the Contemporary left _me _no choice."

She stood, silent, gripping the gun tighter. Never before had she wished for the pain to shoot through her head, to make the ringing in her skull go so loud the world would blur and bend. But nothing came. Not the lightest sting. Not even a lick.

"I don't see the pain on your face," Tolstoy taunted, "so I must be telling the truth."

Saskia tensed upon hearing the glee in the man's voice. It wasn't twisted joy of a madman neither was it the roar of a beast. And this man, who was wearing the identity of another, was telling the truth. His truth. "I don't get it. Why not stay with Port Mafia?"

"I just got my freedom back," he replied as if she was asking something obvious. "After years, I was finally free physically and mentally," Lev tapped his temple for emphasis. "How could I exchange one cage for another?"

"Why me?"

"Because of where you come from. You see, I've known your father. And so, did many of the Contemporary."

"What are you saying?" It wasn't a question. She knew precisely what was implied. As if this knowledge could physically touch her, she made a cautious step back. It was a fruitless hope and a meaningless wish, but the pain never came again. Knowing when people lied seemed like a burden, it was a private knowledge she always got for free. It pained but never lasted. The truth was just as heavy a burden.

"Your father was one of us once. That's about it. I hoped you inherited his ability. You didn't. Покойся он с миром, you received a gift far more interesting. They'd want you. Tyutchev, Turgenev, Fet, the lot of them." Spite coloured his tone. The movement of his hands as he spoke tensed. "The organization you know as Contemporary started out with one goal: to use abilities to improve the world. Abilities that could alter the world, bend it to their will, all with the idea of improving the lives of many. To serve humanity and a greater purpose. After all, why not? Some just happened to have more power than others. The power was granted them, so there must have been a reason. But like many organizations with good intentions, it got corrupted. And now we are here."

"Why are you telling me this?" Saskia asked, confused and angered. The situation made her feel bare, raw. The feeling you get when something bad was about to happen. Like an animal sensing a disaster, Saskia felt the hairs on her skin stand up. There had to be a reason for his talking. For the truth was a burden to bear.

"I thoughts you'd like to know where you were coming from," Tolstoy shrugged, nonchalantly.

"I've never known my father. Or my biological mother." The words spoke true and of frustration. She had no business of carrying the sins of her parents. Unwittingly, she stepped forward, closer towards the man talking.

"That even I can't tell," Lev continued speaking, unbothered by Blok approaching. "He was married, sure, but whether or not you are her child only God knows."

She launched at him. The heavy gunmetal met with the soft flesh of the man's cheek and rebounded off the cheekbone. "I don't care!" It was a scream. A desperate shout. But, all in all, an empty sound that didn't ring true. Matsukata look-alike did not fight back. He staggered and stumbled backwards, shocked and dumb with the force of impact. But another punch was coming. A tight fist aimed at solar plexus.

"Saskia!" Dazai shouted. The sound of her name pulled her out of the blind rage. Saskia landed two punches. Tolstoy started to laugh. No sound was coming out, just his shoulders shaking quietly with amusement.

"Of course, a gag wouldn't shut you," Blok spit, aiming the gun at the man on the ground.

"Don't touch him," Dazai warned.

"You are not even struggling," she observed.

"Those are police handcuffs."

"Useful toys," Matsukata chimed in.

Saskia aimed the gun at the man she assaulted. His face, the face that didn't belong to him, was red but not bleeding yet. "Why did you want me to come here? Tell me!" The safety switch clicked.

"Because I'd rather die than be turned in to them again," Lev answered with a sigh.

"You want _me _to kill you?" she rebuked. If the situation allowed for it, if the adrenaline wasn't running high in her blood after a little tussle, she'd throw up. The idea was too repulsing to handle. "If you want to die, there's a great canal right behind you."

A human mind shouldn't turn to death as an answer. Whether it's the freedom one is seeking or shedding their sins, death is too simple an answer for questions so great.

"He sold you out," Matsukata said instead, pointing at Dazai. The latter wasn't phased by being called out. He shrugged. "For information on the Contemporary."

"I refuse." Her aim never wavered yet. That wouldn't last forever. Either the doubt would fill her mind, or her hand would grow tired.

"Come on, Saskia!" Lev screamed with despair. "I'm giving power over me!"

"I think I have enough power over people as is," she retorted.

"Life, death! My truth, my lie, you have it all! Just end me, I beg of you."

"Nope," she lowered her gun and stepped, "not me."

"Saskia, I am _begging_," he insisted again. "I don't even remember how I looked. Before I was forced to switch bodies over and over again. Was I blonde? Or brunette? I don't remember. My age? I have lied about it so many times, I am not sure I remember the correct date. You know I am not lying."

"I'm just here to pick up Dazai and turn you in," she replied apathetically. That was her goal for coming here. Thinking Dazai had a plan, she came here thinking all she had to do is to act natural. Dazai had proved to be cunning enough to realize who was the shapeshifter before she did. He had met with his attacker before getting consensually kidnapped. Yet Dazai's plan yielded nothing.

"That's deeply disappointing," Lev lamented. "You chose a man immune to your ability. It's a gift, Alexandra, a gift of immense value."

"All it is, is pain. You have no clue how it feels to know more than you should. To know things you shouldn't be knowing. I can't trust people, I never properly learned how to do it!" A strange masochistic joy took power over her. Exhilarating as it was to confess, the looming of the eventual consequences to such sincerity were all too familiar. "I know the truth regardless! And if I try to have a trusting relationship, it's like I'm taking advantage of them! Because I always know more than they want me to!"

"Hypocrite," commented Dazai, getting up from the ground, with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Ah, yes, you." That's all Tolstoy said before pulling the gun out. Saskia reacted immediately, mimicking the action, feeling the grip slipping. "It appears we are at a standstill."


	19. Conscience

She gripped the gun tighter, desperately, understanding that it would do nothing but tire her out first. Dazai looked just barely bothered by having a gun pointed at him with the person on the other end hating him to the tips of his fingers. Matsukata's expression wasn't convoluted. She couldn't use Tanizaki's presence for any leverage. That look of pure hatred and willingness to go far was unmistakable. The moment Tolstoy caught wind they weren't alone, he'd go berserk.

"It's a simple equation, really," he said, teeth clenched. "I shoot him, you shoot me."

"Shooting him is a favor," Saskia replied hastily. It was a provocation. It worked. It was an instinct kicking in, taking control first, but the conscious part kicked in already, and she didn't lower the gun. Dazai had sold her off for information, he must have found value in it. Otherwise, he was simply selling her cheap. And whatever information he obtained, she doubted he had yet had the chance to share it.

"Maybe it's because I wasn't born as Matsukata Satoru," Tolstoy said, never losing his grip, "or because I didn't truly live as him."

"Are you still on about it?"

"I simply wonder where consciousness lies. Our conscience. Where does out identity originate? You take a hair out of my head and run a test on it, it will have Matsukata's DNA. And yet your ability is triggered. Maybe it's because I know I am not him. I don't have his memories, the experiences of living as Mastukata Satoru. Just a body. Trust me, we are born with an affinity to our bodies. Once I lost mine, it was a whole identity crisis. The face I was so used to seeing in the mirror was gone, forever. And now I don't even remember it, just know it was there."

"I'll shoot you simply because you keep talking," Blok warned.

"A body is born first. Our perfect limitation. But not for me. Tall or short, young or old, man or woman. It didn't matter. And I must say, that part of my identity that was stripped away with the absence of my form, well, I compensated for it with this freedom to become anyone. But that too was taken away. You want to give me to them, but I won't go down without a fight."

"Lower the gun. You want to die; he wants to die. I think it really _is_ a simple equation."

"No, I refuse to die by his hand or with him," Tolstoy replied.

"I was suggesting suicide." Saskia saw how her hand was trembling, suspended in the air, holding on to the gun. If the rear sight wasn't fixed, she wondered how amusing it was for Tolstoy to watch the muzzle sway like a leaf in the wind.

"You think it's easy?" the man smiled, lowering his gun. "If I'm honest, death doesn't appeal to me. As someone who has taken lives, I know just how ugly a lonely death is. But I am dying anyway. What more do I have to lose? I'd prefer to keep the little dignity I have left. The body is born first," Lev continued to speak, "I think we can all agree on it. Intelligence is formed later. I can't take someone's intelligence. If only our brains could survive outside the body. Then maybe no one would have to die because of me."

"Interesting," Dazai spoke without a glint of curiosity or intrigue. She could finally lower her aim. She wouldn't' be able to shoot anyone even if her life depended on it once her hand was starting to shake so violently. The rush of blood to the tense muscles felt almost exhilarating. Almost. Tolstoy was cutting corners. He was trying to get her to kill him. And he insisted on talking too. That's what it was. He wasn't talking because he wanted someone to know. He needed her to know. It was a confession, a memoir, and a suicide note.

"You know, Saskia, what I learned in the Mafia?" Matsukata asked rhetorically. "They talk. The man you decided to be close to is a traitor to the mafia, an underboss, Dazai Osamu."

"I heard," she shrugged. If she recalled correctly, Dazai Osamu was the youngest underboss in Port Mafia's history. Which, if you think about it, made them only more questions rather than scary and impressive._ Dazai doesn't look a day over... Oh. He is young._

Lev chocked on a laugh or cry stepping backward twice as the shock was painted all over his face. "You know?" he asked in disbelief.

"Don't act so high and mighty, please. It's repulsive." Blok scoffed.

"That's not what trust is, Alexandra," Lev moralized.

"Probably."

"He _is_ a murderer. Legally, semantically, philosophically, however you wish to understand it!"

"He's right, you know," Osamu spoke eerily calm for someone who was very close to getting shot in the head. Whatever he meant by that; she didn't care. She knew what he was before.

"I am well aware," she scoffed at two men, tapping her head. If Tolstoy said a word he didn't mean, she'd know it. They both know how it worked. "Stop trying to get into my head. Either of you."

"Shoot him," Tolstoy commanded impatiently. "Or I'll do it."

"Shoot me, Saskia," Dazai said. He was looking at her now and that content smile was gone, "I'd rather die by your hand than his, please."

"I can't," she answered simply. HEr voice wasn't thick with emotion. It was a very easy statement. She simply couldn't. She had ever taken a life when hers or someone else's was at risk. She cannot shoot him as he was standing with his hands cuffed behind his back. Defenseless.

"Ah, but you have to," he said, smile wide on his face. No, it wasn't the one he wore before. This one was far more familiar. Mischievous and devilish. That the smile he wore when something clicked in that wicked brain of his. Saskia looked at the gun. The gun Kunikida gave her using his ability. The ability she could only describe as the purest magic trick. A gun of heavy and cold metal was formed from a page of Kunikida's notebook.

"You see, that would make it almost," he theatrically paused, "ideal. It's not so bad," he continued, "to die at the hands of a friend. Ideal death."

Saskia raised the gun and shot Dazai Osamu between his eyebrows. The body fell on the ground with a loud thud. After, it became awfully quiet. Even the wind had stilled for a moment. Not even Tolstoy had made a sound. She expected him to. To growl, to laugh, to choke on hysteria as he both shouted victoriously and laughed maniacally. But he didn't.

"Don't mind if I do," he said as he pointed his weapon at Dazai's body on the ground. A single shot ruined stilled silence. Blood sprayed. It wasn't a struggle anymore. She shot again, aiming radically this time. Second body fell on the ground with a loud wet thud. _With a whimper it is._ Saskia walked over the body without sparing it a glance but didn't lower the gun. Dazai slowly raised himself to a sitting position. Three more gunshots were fired. All three bullets vanished into thin air at the moment of impact. Dazai pouted, offended and completely unamused. Saskia groaned with immense relief and bent over, hands on her knees as if the weight of something heavy had been off her shoulders. Or perhaps it was just placed there.

"God, Kunikida has no idea how therapeutic it is," she spoke louder than usual.

"He does," Dazai replied, carrying a grudge. "He simply isn't wasteful. Don't be so generous with his skill, Detective, show some respect."

"I'll say you provoked me, I'm sure he'll be able to sympathize," Blok retorted. She walked over to him and tossed the keys for the handcuffs. In a few moments, Dazai Osamu was free and accepting a helping hand to get up from the ground. Before Saskia could say anything else, Dazai pulled her in a tight embrace.

"I think I'm severely dehydrated," he said quietly, placing his hand on top of her head. "And there's a bleeding wound on the back of my head." A second went by. Then another. One more. Saskia started to pull away from Dazai grasping on the fact that she was holding onto him for dear life.

"Let's get you to the hospital," she spoke, voice hoarse. Before she could pull away completely and turn to take a look at the body, Dazai's hand fell on her eyes.

"Don't look," he said. He wasn't speaking softly and trying to soothe her. His words offered no consolation. It was a calm command. "Don't. Look."

Saskia couldn't' move. She remembered that time Dazai told her to leave Port Mafia territory. How dark his eyes were and how his tone of voice made her understand there was no room for arguing. She couldn't see his eyes now, but the voice matched.

"Let's go," Dazai said soothingly. Saskia nodded. Dazai placed his hand on her shoulders, forcing his weight onto her, stubbornly protecting Saskia from the sight of a dead body.

* * *

Kunikida and Atsushi were already standing near her car with Tanizaki unchained. And Kunikida looked positively pissed.

"Would you care to explain?" he demanded rather than asked. Saskia sighed sparing Dazai a quick glance. One of them had to start talking.

"All according to plan, Kunikida," Dazai explained. It wasn't an explanation. Not to Saskia, at least. Her eyes fell on Tanizaki who was constantly rubbing his wrist. The one she handcuffed. _Shit. _Guilt was not unfamiliar to her. But it was the one she couldn't negate or justify.

"I'm sorry," she said, bowing down low.

"It's okay!" Junichiro replied immediately, startled. He must have been taken aback by the display of reverence and penance. But Saskia didn't straighten her posture knowing that his response was automatic rather than thoughtful. "It's okay," he repeated more thoughtfully now. "I didn't expect you to do _that _but…"

"All is fair in love and war, right?" Dazai chimed in. Upon hearing that bastardly cheery voice, she stood upright immediately. It couldn't be that she so eagerly played into his hands.

"What do you mean?" Blok spoke through gritted teeth. Those three shots she fired at him were not as therapeutic as she deemed them to be. She needed more. Many more. Perhaps she could pay Kunikida to use his notebook again.

"I — Ugh — We expected you to try and lose me," Junichiro was quick to interrupt.

"And you would follow me anyway," Saskia mumbled. "You knew how to hide from me. _He _told you."

"That right!" Dazai smiled. He grinned. Victoriously, proudly, whatever. He grinned at her. Saskia was starting to boil with anger. He deceived her. Again. He made her play into his hand. Again. She could never win again him. Ever. "So, we would either catch him with numbers," Dazai dropped the act. The smile dissipated as if it wasn't on his lips mere moments ago. "Or he would see through our plan and start acting recklessly. Either way, there wasn't a chance of him getting away." Dazai spoke almost ruefully. As if he won a game he didn't wish to win. "Not with your help!" he added just as merrily as before. Saskia felt like throwing up. It felt awful — abnormal even — to watch him just through the hoops like this. She felt the nausea, the shiver of her body as if sickly. However, she doubted it was because of Dazai. He was merely adding up to the overwhelming feeling.

"That's not," she mumbled. But her voice died down before she could finish the sentence. Something wasn't right with her. With the situation. She questioned for a moment if all this wasn't just a dream or a hallucination. Or better yet a simple delusion created by some gifted.

"Well, now that's done," Kunikida said, "I'm taking Tanizaki and Atsushi home."

"So, you can take Dazai to the hospital too," Saskia said. Her voice had returned but only at the thought of Dazai leaving her presence for the rest of the night. She truly couldn't account for her next actions towards the person who manipulated her so, who pushed the burden onto her shoulders. He could have taken it. He had done so before. He admitted to it. _Dazai Osamu doesn't do kind._ The thought she thought to herself so many times, desperately reminding herself to not mistake him for his numerous masks. _How hopeful, how foolish._

"What's wrong with her?" Kunikida asked. Blok perked up at the question about her. Only after she realized she'd been soundlessly laughing. _Like a psychopath. Talk about normalcy. _She needed a moment of complete silence and stillness. She needed the world to stop spinning for just a few seconds so she could regain herself. But the world didn't give a damn. She masked the laughing behind coughing, doubting it could fool anyone here, knowing Dazai would see through her.

"Nothing," the woman answered. "So, will you take him?"

"Of course not," Kunikida shrugged nonchalantly. It wasn't a negotiation to begin with. The two young men bid their farewells albeit awkwardly. At least it seemed that Tanizaki didn't hold a grudge for being handcuffed to a steering wheel. Dazai and Blok watched them go. No talking. No eye contact. Nothing was exchanged. For a moment, they forgot all about each other's existence. Saskia breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. She hoped to see nothing, the darkness behind eyelids, the nothingness it offered. But amidst the lack of imagery she saw a red splash. She gasped. The reality of her action had sunk in too quickly for her liking.

"Saskia," Dazai spoke grimly. The tone matched her feelings perfectly. "Let's go."

"Dazai," Blok said with an edge. It wasn't a warning or an accusation. She just hoped to make his name sound as bitter to him as it was to her. "I _killed _him. Killed. Forget for a moment about my conscience as if you ever considered it and think about the Contemporary." She couldn't be held accountable for grabbing his collar and pulling him closer to her. She couldn't be blamed for the wrinkled on the coat or the whitening of her knuckles.

"Saskia," Osamu spoke quietly and place his hand on top of hers. He didn't try to pry her finger away or make her loose her grip. "Trust me, you showed him the greatest mercy a human is capable of."

"W-what?"

"The Contemporary already started a war. Don't think about it. Let's go."

If she had any will or strength to fight, she would. She would pry the answers out of him. She would beat them our of Dazai Osamu. But her body felt limp, her fingers loosening and slipping down the sand-coloured coat. And her mind felt heavy and clouded. The weight of guilty conscience.


	20. Gardens

She hated hospitals. Just as many other places where people tended to lie for the benefit of others. It was comping from a place of kindness and compassion and sympathy. And Saskia could only ever appreciate it at a distance. Hearing conversations she didn't have to be a part of, the accidental eavesdropping that happened in the emergency waiting rooms was giving her a headache from time to time. Especially if there were children. Children were lied to the most. She also despised the smell of hospitals. So sterile and yet very much sickly, deathly.

The young nurse giggled after Dazai whispered something to her. Saskia was doing her best mental job at not listening, ignoring, and wiping out any memory of their interaction whatsoever. It felt a tad purvey to be privy to a conversation that should be happening behind closed doors and tight locks. It felt even stranger the familiarity they seemed to share. It could be nothing but her imagination. Yet she was willing to bet two hundred yen Dazai was somewhat of a frequent patient due to his tendencies. That or they've slept together. Either way, Saskia wanted to forget desperately. Dazai flashed a smile to the nurse, yet Saskia caught him giving _her_ a side-eye.

"Should I leave?" she mouthed to him. He spared her a smile of a different kind.

"You should be all better in no time," the young nurse said with a bright smile. Whatever it was Dazai was telling her, it sure as well worked to lift her spirits way above the world so high. "You are lucky you didn't get a concussion."

"He's too thick-skulled," Detective mumbled under her nose. It was the little joy she could suck out of the situation that sucked so much.

"So, it's alright if I have a visitor?" Dazai asked with a cock of his head and a sly smile.

"I'll do my best," the nurse replied. Blok gagged. Any more sweetness between them and she'd be hospitalized too for developing severe diabetic shock. But with the last exchange of pleasantries, the nurse finally went on about her business. There sure was a spring in her step Saskia didn't notice before. The nurse closed the curtain, leaving Saskia and Dazai separated from the outside world, leaving them trapped together until the latter got permission to leave.

"I don't think me being here was a problem in the first place," Blok said without looking at her partner. "You kinda made it a problem, though." That last part was mumbled under her nose so incoherently, Dazai raised a brow at the sudden display of insecurity and indignity.

"Oh, I didn't mean you," he said with epiphany. Saskia perked up. Someone else was coming to visit Dazai despite the triviality of his condition. That was unexpected. He didn't mention a name of the person and it would be reasonable to expect someone from the agency to come for them. But it was also about Dazai. Why would they? Kunikida would have informed everyone of what had happened. What she made happen. Dazai was purposefully vague about the visitor, and she couldn't help but want to know. "Curious?" Osamu asked calmly, playing with the IV tube stuck in his arm. The nurse had done a great job at keeping the layers of bandages undisturbed enough to stay yet just enough to do what needed to be done. "I lied, by the way."

"No one's coming?"

"No, he'll come," Dazai spoke, and the more he spoke the grimmer he sounded, "just not for me." Blok visibly tensed. Dazai's invitations to people to meet didn't end up good so far. And she had one meeting already, she had plenty for one day. The curtain separating the two of them from the rest of the ward had been pushed aside to reveal a man in a brown double-breasted coat with a notebook in his hand. Sudden appearance made Saskia jump in her seat, but it only mattered for a second. Neither of the men was interested in her reaction as they looked each other in the eye for a long moment. The tension was palpable, but it dissipated with Dazai's cheery voice.

"Ango!" he chirped with offensive exhilaration. The expression on his face could trick anyone into believing in such a joyful showcase. But Saskia guessed that the visiting man wasn't buying into it either. "You came!" Dazai spoke again. The tone wasn't as exhilarating as before peeling off the layers of obvious deception. "I sure do hope you'll keep your end of the bargain till the end," he finished with a bone-biting chill. Saskia shivered, understanding in a spilt of second that whatever this man had done wrong was severe and unforgivable for the ex-mafia. And she'd never wish upon herself to her Dazai speaking to her in such a manner. It certainly was a blessing that Dazai's ability couldn't cause harm at a distance.

Because her eyes were fixed on the newcomer, she saw the way he reacted to those cold and dark words thrown at him. An expression best described at that of a dull throbbing pain one gets when probing an old wound. "Of course," Ango confirmed, sounding defeated. His attention quickly turned to Saskia who has been observing him in an obvious manner. "Sakaguchi Ango." He introduced himself with a polite bow. Yet Blok didn't feel like getting up for the courtesy, bows, and pleasantries. It just so happened she had killed someone just a few hours ago. Pleasantries just weren't eager to come out.

A few second had passed, no one said anything. For whatever reason, the woman expected Ango to continue talking and explain his presence since Dazai didn't bother. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Blok asked bluntly.

Ango pulled out a wiping cloth from the inside of his coat and took off his glasses. "No," he said calmly with a hint of amusement. "I suppose Dazai didn't bother with explanations," he started to wipe his glasses. "As always." She was intrigued by the last comment. This Sakaguchi man had known Dazai as good as anyone could truly know a man like him. And it would be so easy to ask for answers from him. There couldn't be two people immune to her ability in one room.

"I work with the Special Ability Department," Ango continued.

"That's a special government department designated to handle cases involving ability users," Dazai explained, sounding very bored.

"I'm here to offer you a job," Ango pressed further. There was a string of annoyance in his voice. All that Saskia was able to produce for a response was a confused _huh._ "Blok Alexandra," he opened his notebook, "homicide detective with the police force of Yokohama." He was listing off things very matter-of-factly. Saskia directed her attention towards Dazai. It would be easy to question Ango as to where he got this information from. For a man working for the government it wouldn't be hard. But if it was Dazai, it meant adding another bone to pick to the plate.

"You had failed the entrance exam to become a public prosecutor," Sakaguchi seemed to be done for the moment. Blok eyed Dazai curiously catching that meager reaction. It was all in his eyes. It wasn't him.

"Homicide burns people out," she quoted.

"Ah, speaking of that incident—"

"Shut it," she spoke harshly, with anger and spite. She could take that from fellow officers since they knew what it was like. But this man had no right to comment on that incident. "If you have something else to say and you want to say it, you better get to it now."

"I see." It wasn't hard to recognize how hard it was for Sakaguchi to not sigh. "Your ability would be useful for the department."

"The government wants to get me into the prosecutor's office in exchange for working for them?" Saskia tilted her head. A sweet carrot dangling right in front of her nose.

"In a nutshell, yes," Ango nodded. Blok hummed thoughtfully. Her mind was going down a dark path now that her past was so callously brought up again. Special Ability Department dealt with cases involving ability users. If they were any good at what they were doing, they couldn't ignore ADA and Port Mafia's existence. And yet those organizations existed right under their noses. More so, Detective Agency had built a reputation for themselves and got involved with the military too. There was only one reasonable explanation for the government secrecy and organizations that were specifically aimed at employing ability users.

"What are you willing to do to get me to work for the government?" she asked calmly. "Threaten and blackmail me as well?" Ango looked at Dazai for a moment who feigned a lack of understanding. Not that this government official had bought into that.

"No. Your ability could be helpful but not essential," Ango spoke.

"Lie to me."

"I — I — Ah, I enjoy namako."

"Good enough," Saskia spoke, wincing from pain and rubbing her head.

"Is that how your ability works?" the man asked with carefully disguised curiosity. "You can detect lies through pain."

"When spoken only," she added. _Dazai didn't reveal that either. He must have been extremely vague._ She got up from her seat but only to reach the ability nullifier. The moment her finger lightly touched Dazai's finger, the pain had disappeared as if it never was here. "Two more questions and I'll give you an answer."

"You don't have to give an answer right now," he spoke with submission. It was suspicions how defensive and nonconfrontational he was. He started to back away like he had sensed something was off.

"Correct me if I got it wrong about anything," she asked gently. "The government has a secret department that handles ability users all over Japan. And while they maintain secrecy, there is such an organization as Armed Detective Agency, employing ability users, working with the military. Does the government allow certain organizations to exist?" It not like she needed a verbal answer to know the truth. Ango discovered how her ability worked. There was no point of him opening his mouth unless to speak the truth. "On the other hand, there's another organization with a far less noble cause," Blok continued. "Port Mafia. It couldn't be that your department doesn't know of Mafia's ways or who it seeks to recruit. Does the government allow Port Mafia to continue their operation?"

Ango's eyes were not at all like Dazai's. It wasn't about the colour but how expressive they could be. Dazai's eyes were deep and dark as a forest in the night. The light could be seen in the distance, yet one could never be sure of their true nature. Ango's told everything to Saskia. All she needed to know. He didn't say anything but neither did he waver. He never broke eye contact.

"I know," Saskia said with a sigh, "it's hard to talk to me now that you know about my ability."

"I take it you declined the proposition," Sakaguchi politely bowed again. Not quite as low, however. The difference wasn't great but noticeable.

"Sorry," she replied without a hint of regret. The two men exchanged looks one last time. Dazai's was filled with fondness. She didn't bother to take notice of another man. There were quite a few things she needed to chew one while her mind was focused on something else. Before she would spiral down the stairs of guilt and sin. The Special Ability Department had something going on between the Agency and Port Mafia.

"Since you are wondering, the government gave Port Mafia a business license," Dazai spoke matter-of-factly. It was so obvious for him to guess what she was thinking. But she had to always walk in the dark. Blind and deaf, hoping she wouldn't stumble and fall, hoping that, eventually, her hands would find something in the dark that would help her find answers.

"That department is going to clean up the mess I made," Saskia mumbled. "You sold me out twice. Because you needed information and reassurance. And now they know I exist. Doubt they'll let me be despite Sakaguchi's submissiveness," she sighed lamentedly. Before she had to worry about Port Mafia. Now it was the government she technically was working for. "But it couldn't just be all to meet me."

"Well," Dazai agreed, "the government is interested in keeping their secrets and ability users."

"The Contemporary. I get it. It was them leaving bodies behind. I guess the unfortunate souls Mori thought were about to betray Port Mafia. That must be what Tolstoy meant about his freedom being taken away. They have a way to take people and control them."

"You are catching up quick," Dazai concurred. "Won't be an issue then." She didn't say anything to that, preferring to zone out. The conversation would lead to the place of discussing the agency and her status with them. And she didn't know what she wanted to do. If she wanted to do anything.

"I get it now," she said lazily. There was little chance she could turn the tables on him, yet she could try. "I think." Saskia yawned, placed her hands on the bed and rested her head. Her eyes were watching Dazai's carefully constructed expression of bewilderment. Yet he didn't speak up — just tilted his head as if to invite her to talk more. He was listening. "This thing about you."

_I think most people have a void inside them. Some might have as long as they remember themselves, something missing deep inside them. Sometimes it's life that leaves void inside us. It's not that bad, after all, if you are empty, you can be endlessly filled. And the task of being a human being is to tend to that void. Fill it with something like human connections and beliefs. Sometimes all that can be done to that void is to confine and seal it, tending to the walls built around it so it won't break through. That's the most human thing, I think, that's what makes a human. That void like the garden of our soul, even if it's the garden of sins and vices. Your garden had died without ever blooming._

_Or something like that. I am not poetic. But it's not the problem with you, is it? Your void is immense. The sheer magnitude of it — people and beliefs won't be enough. Nothing will be enough. Your void is all-consuming. You can try and fill it, try to confine it, build walls around it… It would never work. _

She couldn't bring up the moment her lips stopped moving and the words ceased to come out. Her thoughts remained unspoken as they started each other in the eye. Dazai cocked a brow in question, waiting for a continuation. It didn't come. She laughed for a moment at her cowardice

"Move a bit, will ya?" Saskia got up from her seat to stretch her aching back. Dazai moved a bit aside. She hopped on the bed beside him not missing the smirk on his face as she laid back on the bed. Nor did she miss the fact that Dazai brought up a book with the red cover, worn but not tattered. "That book is just for show," Saskia mumbled sleepily. Someone's weight was placed on the pillow beside her head.


End file.
